High Flying, Adored
by Shadow131
Summary: When Padme doesn't die in childbirth, when ObiWan and Anakin don't fight on Mustafar, when Mara isn't the Emperor's Hand and Luke isn't a farmboy. When fate brings them together and the universe threatens to tear them apart, things are a bit complicated
1. Chapter 1

**High Flying, Adored**

**Chapter One**

Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Star Wars or any of the characters I'm about to use. Too bad.

Author's Note: The supreme irony of this is that both of my big SW fics ended up coming from lines in songs from "Evita." For "Where Am I Going To?" I'd just seen the movie and wasn't majorly impressed. However, I thought the song "Another Suitcase in Another Hall," was pretty, and the line stuck with me. For this fic, I got the Premiere American Recording for Christmas. And it rocks. But that's not really important. Anyway, while there are some similarities to my last fic, they are really very, very different, so please keep that in mind when you read. Thank you very much. Oh, and the idea behind a relationship between Padmè and Bail is solely the fault of Kazzy, who's fantastic fic "A Moment In Time," propelled me to get into the Star Wars fanfiction scene. All of you: go read it now. It is fantastic.

……………………………………………………………………………………..

_Have I fallen so far_

_And is the hour so late_

_That nothing remains _

_But the cry of my hate?_

_The cries in the dark_

_That nobody hears_

_Here where I stand_

_At the turning of the years._

- Les Miserables

……………………………………………………………………………………..

_She put the boy into his arms to comfort while she did the same to the girl. It was understandable to be sobbing with terror at such a delicate, young age. They could hear the bombardment of the bunker even though they had built so far down. He watched Padmè wince involuntarily as she must of thought of the precious buildings more above ground. They'd been so sure that this time they hadn't been detected. _

_Assuming they repelled the attack they'd have to get up and move in a matter of sheer moments. More likely, they wouldn't, and orders would start going out to have to transport ships loaded up while they rallied up their own forces to keep the "Empire," distracted long enough to get away. _

_He'd never believed in his life he'd be something like this – a Rebel. He never thought that it would come to this._

_"Where's Senator Organa?" he asked, and Senator Amidala blinked a moment, searching through a hazy, tired mind for an answer. As exhausted as she was, she carried such an infinite amount of strength. _

_"Med ward," she finally replied, sighing heavily. "Breha's still in intensive care." She must have seen the stricken look on his face; a particularly bad explosion rocked them, and she had to take a step closer to him to keep her balance – which served her purpose fine. "I'm really worried about her." She had the look in her eyes that she used whenever she wanted something. _

_"I…I don't think there's much I can do…" The look intensified. "But I'll do my best." She smiled at him._

_"Thank you." _……………………………………………………………………………………..

"You don't have to, you know, if you really don't want to."

Luke Skywalker had been staring out the window at the Coruscant traffic far away from the serene façade of the Imperial Palace, but the voice brought him smoothly back to reality.

He blinked a few times, shook his head. "Hm?"

His father raised an eyebrow at his constant daydreaming, holding up the contract they'd been drafting. "The alliance?"

"Oh, you mean your matchmaker game."

Darth Vader, leader of a very, very large chunk of the galaxy, could be brought down very swiftly – but only by his twenty five year old son. He grimaced and groaned. "You know I hate it when you call it that."

Luke smiled, turned full from the window. "I know."

"That's not what I'm after here, and at any time you can withdraw your part in it and we'll just call the whole deal off."

"I know that, too." With a weary sigh, the Imperial Prince dropped into a chair across from his father's desk. "The Republic Confederacy isn't going to go away. We've figured that out after twenty years. On all counts, an alliance of this kind is a smart idea. If I ever do want to carry on the family tree, as it were, she's a Jedi; my children would be two fold as powerful. It's a good political tool for them, and the Republicans can't keep up a war effort forever. It's a political venture in which everyone wins, more or less."

The Emperor smiled, put the paper down and leaned one hand onto the desk. "But I was never willing to use you as a political tool."

His son smiled again. "Yes, I know that, father." He sighed, stood up. "It's silly to worry about it. They haven't accepted yet, and I'm not entirely convinced they will. Probably, but not certainly. The event is months away, there's drafts to be written, details to hash out."

"But this whole marriage thing…it seems rather ridiculous, almost."

"It's _my _idea," Luke reminded, relaxing indolently in the chair. "And I've already explained the reasons. If I don't like her, if _you _don't like her, we'll take her out of the picture. But for an alliance of this kind, they're going to want some eyes and ears in their investment. Even if they balk at marriage, they're going to want an agent of some kind here."

Vader sighed, slowly lowering himself into his chair. At forty eight, his son reflected occasionally, he really didn't look so bad. There was a scar on his face from a close fight with…with the person who Luke tried to keep unnamed, but never quite succeeded. His blond hair had grayed, his blue eyes were now more steely grey, and he was displaying a vigor of health that they both knew was rapidly declining. So Luke kind of wanted to get married in order to assure his father that the family dynasty would continue. Even if it didn't, even if it ended up being a hallow gesture, well, he'd tried, at any rate.

"Now, who's this girl you've picked out?"

The son smiled, pointed at her picture. "The youngest, prettiest Jedi girl I could find. Well, you know, if she didn't look so damn severe."

……………………………………………………………………………………..

The youngest, pretties Jedi girl the Imperial Prince could find wasn't a bad pick, considering that the other established Jedi were all old from before the Empire, and well before that, if one included the dying Master Yoda, and she was the oldest of the new breed, rather one of a kind in that situation. The rest were young children under Yoda's care. What was to be done after they were no longer Younglings was being debated.

The girl was Mara Jade, twenty five, Jedi Knight. And as to her future, she'd mostly expected to take on a Padawan and spit the Empire in the eye until her dying breath. Alright, true, the few living Jedi – the remaining was a beautiful grand total of three, and that included her – had adapted somewhat reluctantly from the old ways to face the new age they were thrust into. Relationships were not yet considered taboo – sort of. She was the only one of age or interest, and she lacked the interest. Besides, if she had taken a liking to someone, Yoda would have done his worst to get her to see otherwise, and Obi-Wan would have kept a very firm eye on the entire situation. The urge had never really sprang up enough for her to rebel like the founder of the new line of Jedi – the father of the Imperial Prince.

But getting married was a step too far for all the Jedi, more or less. And she had a problem getting married for two reasons: One, she had never met this man in her entire life. And for two, he just happened to be that self same Imperial Prince, son of that self same Sith Lord who had eventually all but destroyed the Jedi.

Mara was the second Jedi not to be raised from birth – to be followed by those Younglings that now studied under Yoda. And it looked like she'd be the second to get married.

That was still being debated, she sighed to herself, as she watched the Senate tear each other to bits. But their tearing was what made the make-shift Republic what it was, and she reminded herself of that as she leaned her elbow on the railing of the visitors balcony, empty, save for her. She wasn't well versed in politics like her almost fiancée, and she wasn't interested in being his ticket to a whole lot of heirs; if he so much as tried that, there would be words. And her lightsaber would do most of the talking.

Still, she wasn't getting married. Yet. That's what the Senate was arguing over.

_Anakin Skywalker didn't just destroy the Jedi_, she thought to herself. _He totally revolutionized them_.

"Bureaucracy at its finest, isn't it?"

She wheeled, instinctually grinning to see Master Obi-Wan Kenobi leaning against the doorway. "Unfortunately," he was continuing, "that's really rather a true statement."

She tried to sort of wipe the grin off her face, and she failed miserably. "Good day, Master Obi-Wan."

"Alright," he walked in, stood next to her on the balcony and gripped the rail, "there's the niceties, now why don't you be your normal, back talking self and tell me what your think of this whole fiasco."

"I don't backtalk!" she cried, attempting to be horrified. He snorted, shot her a look. Leaning against the rail, she finally replied, "I'm not sure yet. Do they even know how ridiculous it sounds?"

"I suspect they do," he said dryly. "But that's why it makes so much sense."

She paused a moment, finally asked, "What do you think I should do? The Senate can argue all it wants, but I suppose, ultimately, its me who has to answer Skywalker's….interesting proposal."

"Mhm," Obi-Wan replied, watching as one senator stepped down and another one stood up – an endless cycle of jabbering. He gave her one good once over and said, "You're too young."

"What?" she laughed. "I'm twenty five."

"Twenty five, when did you turn twenty five?"

"You know perfectly well when, and that's not a good enough answer."

He turned and looked at her fully, smiled. "I…I don't know, Mara," he sighed. "I raised you since you were Anakin's age-"

"Now, don't start comparing me to your last Padawan," she interrupted, now glaring and starting to storm out of the balcony while he followed.

"I wasn't comparing you."

"Of course you were, you always have! Master," she turned to him in the dimly lit staircase, and Obi-Wan was struck once more with the fact that his second Padawan had grown up, they always did. "I am never going to be Anakin Skywalker."

"Just marry his son?"

She sighed heavily, continued walking. "Not necessarily. I haven't decided yet."

"Mara," he stopped her with his voice. "I would ask you to be careful."

"You know I would be."

"Ha!" he laughed. "Careful. Yoda's been calling you reckless since the day I brought you back to Alderaan. Careful. There's a laugh."

"I'm asking for your advice!" she reminded him passionately. "But I'm asking you to also respect the decisions I will make. You always knew I had to make my own choices. You said you accepted that."

"And I do," he reminded, walking slowly to her side. "And I do not believe you will be like Anakin, not if you set your mind to it. Now," he continued, taking her arm affably and leading her down a different staircase. "I believe some of the Senators wanted to talk to you about your decision."

She stopped, grinned at him again. "The Organas?"

He sighed, glanced at her. "Who else has such an appalling interest in your well being?"

……………………………………………………………………………………..

The senators began to pour out in droves from the main door where Mara and her former Master waited, talking quietly amongst themselves. Some of them stopped and wished her luck in her decision, and others looked about ready to talk her ear off when a gentle hand took hers and pulled her away not only from the other senators but from Obi-Wan, who was powerless to stop politicians.

"That's enough questions, the Jedi can answer them all when they're a little better informed."

"Thank you, Senator Amidala," Mara whispered, overwhelmed by how much interest was suddenly geared in her direction. She was used to being more or less ignored unless a Jedi subject came up, and rarely had it ever given her much more publicity.

Padmè Amidala Skywalker Organa smirked at her. "You are simply not a politician, my dear," she sighed wearily. The still striking woman, now fifty three year old woman whispered to her, "You do have the right to not answer their questions."

"Much like the press," another voice piped in wryly, and Mara turned to find the elder senator's daughter walking towards them, trailed by her father, as usual. Leia was tugging furiously at the intricate braids set in her hair, and Padmè released her surrogate child to keep her biological one from destroying the beautiful work she'd done on her hair.

"Leia," she scolded. "It looks fine."

"I feel silly, and I'm a year younger than Mara, and a senator. I refuse to look silly," the brunette protested, giving up as her mother dutifully fixed her hair.

"Padmè," Bail interceded on behalf of the twenty four year old girl, "come on, she looks fine. You don't need to work on it."

Padmè muttered something unintelligible between a pin in her teeth, toying with her daughter's hair as Obi-Wan joined them, finally escaping the throng of curious senators.

"Good afternoon, Senator Organa," Mara respectfully said.

"None of that, now, I'm practically your uncle."

"That's because," Obi-Wan sighed, "you all insisted on meddling with the Jedi's raising of her."

"Oh, it's just as well," Leia replied, shaking off her mother and patting her head carefully. "Mara would have given you infinite trouble on your own."

"Infinite trouble, would she?" he retorted sarcastically as the girls smiled at each other. The serious and spunky princess by lineage and the reclusive and promising student of the Force had been the closest to being best friends as the other had had. "And what was she with your help, for goodness' sake?"

The Organa's had taken an immediate and thorough interest in Mara since the moment she'd been brought to the new Temple to train. She suspected it was largely due to Padmè's firm desire to sort of earn forgiveness for her part of Anakin's fall.

"It seems," Bail said, changing the subject, "that you've got quite a decision resting on your shoulders."

"What did the Senate decide?" she asked anxiously.

"They don't have a problem with it," Padmè sighed with firm misgivings. "But they think the ultimate decision should lie with you and the Jedi."

"They'll follow whatever you decide," Leia added, more serious now.

Mara paused a moment, glanced at the woman who had been a profound presence in her life since she was seven. "Senator Amidala…what do you think I should do? Do you like the idea?"

Padmè shook her head. "I don't like the idea. But I'm not going to influence your decision."

"Come, Mara," Obi-Wan sighed. "I think we're all going to have to have a long talk about this." They said their goodbyes and the two Jedi strolled off together. "I do agree with Senator Amidala," he spoke softly. "But I'm not sure either of our reasons are good enough to refuse the offer. It's a tremendous responsibility."

Mara paused a moment, heaved a sigh. "Would it help the people? The trading lane deals, the peace treaty, the recognition, all of that?"

"Oh, yes, tremendously."

"Then, if Master Yoda agrees," she finally said, stopping and taking a deep breath, "I will go to Coruscant."


	2. Chapter 2

**High Flying, Adored**

**Chapter Two**

Disclaimer: See chapter one.

Hermes God Of Thieves: Oh, thank you very much. It's intended to be confusing at first. Hopefully, that'll lessen as time goes on. I know next to nothing about strings, I'm a brass player myself. The only pieces my band ever plays are for competitions. I _wish _we would do something that cool.

CRYSTAL: The Skywalker Organa thing gets a little light in this chapter, but I think that'll be explained in more detail next time. I think.

Madame Naberrie: Oh, I love that one. I'm kind of worried that the beginning of this is _too _similar, but there are some major twists and turns of plot coming. They'll just take a little while to get here.

………………………………………………………………………………………

_There will always be a valley_

_Always mountains one must scale_

_There will always be perilous waters_

_Which someone must sail!_

- The Scarlet Pimpernel

………………………………………………………………………………………

"Like this the Council does not," Master Yoda was stoically saying.

Mara brushed a rebel lock of hair from her eyes, sighing to herself. As terrible as it was to admit, the Council was a rather loose term. The only actual raised from birth Jedi on it were Yoda and Obi-Wan. The other two were rather poorly trained initiates, older than Mara, though inducted at about the same time. They had talent in the Force, but they were not very powerful. Mara used to be rather annoyed that she hadn't been invited onto the Council, but Obi-Wan desperately preached patience, still hoping painfully he was not reliving his disaster with Anakin.

And so she was patient. She would become a Master, take one of the Younglings as a Padawan when they were old enough, become a member on the Council, and just continue on like that for a few years – at least, that _had _been the plan. And then this had cropped up.

"But…" he was continuing, wrinkly hands folded on his Gimer stick, "wise for the Republic it is also. So," Mara perked up slightly, finally seeing a light at the end of the tunnel, an end to the long lecture Yoda had just delivered. "Go to Coruscant you shall, discuss terms with young Skywalker. Accept, to be decided, but to go…may not hurt."

She bowed, not so much thrilled with the verdict as she was thrilled to be leaving. "Thank you, Master Yoda."

"Exercise caution, you will!"

"Yes, Master."

"Yes…" He hummed a moment, giving his cane a quick tap against the floor. "Go, may you," he addressed both she and the other Council members, settling back into his chair.

She bowed again, walked out the doors to the comparatively pitiful Council room, and soon found her former master at her heels once more.

"You seem rather pleased with yourself," he sighed, seeming somewhat miffed. "Or at least annoyed. Only you can make that go hand in hand."

"On the contrary, I assure you."

"Then may one ask _what _you're annoyed about?"

She glanced at him, pursed her lips – but kept walking. "You could have stood up for me a bit more." She now fully sighed. "You know how Master Yoda picks on me with those lectures of his, he always has!"

"He's being cautious. The last Jedi not raised from birth in the Temple-"

"Was the Emperor, believe me, I know." She wheeled on him, giving up the argument. "But he makes me seem like such a villain." Obi-Wan said nothing, she pressed the issue. "Am I?"

"Mara…"

"That's not an answer," she rebutted, reaching a hand for the hall door.

"Of course you're not, don't ask stupid questions. But it is a delicate situation, and to exercise even greater caution than you usually do would not be unwise."

"But I-" She stopped, suddenly grinned, and now threw open the door. "Took you all long enough."

………………………………………………………………………………………

_Officially, they didn't exist. In Imperial or Rebellion records, and they had planned it that way. Just in case. In case something like…this happened. _

_They hadn't expected Imperial troops to breech the stronghold so far, they'd have to pack up and move again._

_Almost as if she knew what he was thinking, she said, "Bail's talking of emancipating Alderaan."_

_He looked up at her, surprised, but said nothing. Senator Organa had been talking about a lot of radical ideas since…the death of his wife…._

_"I…I might try talking to the Queen. I'd like to see the same done for Naboo."_

_He snorted. "It's not a bad idea, of course," he amended. "But it's Palpatine's home planet."_

_"I somehow doubt," Padmè replied wryly, "he'd seriously mind the slight. But a disjointed Rebellion doesn't stand a chance. Taking a stand, arming and allying a few planets, even if it's only two at first, does."_

_"It's dangerous," he reminded her._

_"I know that…" she whispered, looking down at the small boy – who technically did not exist – in her arms. "But more planets will follow. And that's why…" She paused painfully. "You're taking Luke to Tatooine."_

_He sighed, feeling old. "It's not a bad idea," he repeated for a different reason. "But I know how hard it is on you."_

_"Master Yoda suggested it." Yoda, he should have known. "But you could keep him out of harms way there. Anakin would never-" She stopped; it was too painful. "You could raise him right. A war zone isn't any place for a baby."_

_"And the girl?"_

_She paused guiltily there. "Bail and I were talking…"_

_"You said," he reminded her, though he felt somewhat hypocritical, "a war zone is no place for a baby."_

_"I can't give up both of them, I'm not as strong as you or…Anakin. And I've been up for two nights trying to decide who should stay and who should go. A war zone is no place for a baby, but neither is Tatooine, I remember that much." _

_Tatooine was no place for anybody, he reflected to himself._

_"I somehow figure from flawed logic Tatooine's even less of a place for a baby girl. You've been there, you remember, understand…"_

_That was true, she had a point…. "Alright," he conceded. "We'll work out the details later. But no one can ever know they're twins."_

_"I know that," she whispered. "But Bail suggested something…"_

_"We'll talk about it later," he reassured her. Now was too hectic and confusing._

………………………………………………………………………………………

Wedge Antilles, Rogue Leader, was sprawled out indignantly in a chair outside the hallway to the Jedi Council chambers. He'd never seen the original Temple himself, but the one they'd managed to build up on Alderaan wasn't bad, he personally felt, whistling to himself. He sometimes heard Master Obi-Wan comparing them in size and majesty, but there were a whole lot less Jedi now, and they were fugitives, not honored guests in most societies.

Whenever he voiced this to Mara Jade, he got hit very quickly – the Jedi would grow, she maintained. The fact that there were any left at all after the slaughter of the Purge was a miracle to thank the Force for, and given a few generations, they would have a nice size once more.

"And the majesty?" he'd asked.

That, too, would return.

"You know, Master Yoda would kill you for sitting in one of his chairs like that."

Wedge stopped his whistling, looked up at the expectant and impatient face of the Senate's youngest member.

"Oh," he said, swinging his legs from off the arm rest and sitting upright. "Hey there, Senator Organa."

Senator Organa had her hair tied simply back and had escaped her parent's detection in her preferred more comfortable garb. "The Senator is out," she replied, still sitting very princess like in the chair across from him. "But you can talk to Leia."

"Why do you do it?" he asked skeptically, and she raised an eyebrow. "I mean the whole politics thing."

"Cause I like it. Why do you fly?"

"Because it's freaking cool!"

"So is the senator-ship."

"Nu uh," he replied, shaking his head. "I've sat in on those when they've threatened to cut our funding, that junk's tedious."

She shrugged. "Every dog knows his own. Changing the topics," she sighed, pushing a long, brown braid out of her way, "why are you here?"

"I could ask you the same," the pilot quipped, affecting hurt. "But I got caught up on Rogue gossip and thought I'd come down and see what Mara was up to."

"Did you now?"

"Yes, I-" He stopped, looked down the hall to the main courtyard of the new Jedi Temple. It branched off three ways, to the public, to the cloister, and to the supremely depleted library. But coming up from the public entrance was a brown haired man in his thirties, looking rather grizzled; a standard smuggler, by most's opinion, but Wedge flashed him a smile and gave Leia a glance, who was refusing to look at the man.

"Hey, Han, long time no see. You and Chewie finally deliver those parts I need?"

Solo, reluctant supplier to the battered Republic Confederacy, shrugged nonchalant. "You paid me to do it, didn't you? Well, Chewie's dropping them off at the garage."

"What are you doing here?" Leia said coolly, finally deigning to look at him.

"Well, excuse me, Your Worship. I'm on official Jedi business."

"Jedi?"

"That's right. Got a message for Master Obi-Wan." He dug a chip out of his breast pocket, and Leia glanced at it suspiciously. Whatever Han had done to start this particular lovers tiff must have been good, Wedge thought to himself. Boy, those two could play it…

He opened his mouth to say something else when the sound of two familiar voices arguing behind the door stopped him. "Speak of the devil…"

The door swung open to a beaming young Jedi girl. "Took you all long enough."

"Thank you," Leia replied sarcastically, "but I already talked to you about your little arranged marriage."

"Alright," Mara said, putting her hands on her hips. "Leia's exempt." She turned on the boys. "Now what's your excuse?"

"Repairs," Han shrugged, motioning behind him, apparently meaning the _Falcon_.

Wedge smiled feebly. "Uhm….training exercises?"

"Ha!" she cried, pointing an accusing finger at the smiling pilot. "You're on my list now, Antilles, you best watch yourself."

"I'll be careful."

"Captain Solo," Master Obi-Wan interrupted, smiling. "You decided to join us again."

"Not so much," he shrugged, taking the chip out again. "I was just told to give you this."

Mara peered at it curiously. "What is it?"

Solo shrugged. "Dunno. Some message or something, I guess. Now," he continued, smiling slyly at her. "What's this I hear about you getting married?"

She groaned. "I'll tell you later. Believe me, it's a mess."

………………………………………………………………………………………

She had refused to dress up fancy or anything for her first meeting with her "fiancée," on Coruscant. Even Obi-Wan had suggested she _try _and look nice, which of course just strengthened her stubborn resolve. She tied her hair back into a braid, slid into some non-descript Jedi robes, clipped her lightsaber onto her belt, and was ready to land and meet the guy.

The landing was the really exciting part. She hadn't been on Coruscant in eighteen years – until the day Obi-Wan had accidentally discovered her. So seeing it from space – glowing like a beacon – was absolutely thrilling. It sent a small shiver down her spine; the undisputed hub of the galaxy!

_And you might be Empress of it_, some strange, small voice whispered to her. But that was a silly, dangerous thought, and she pushed it away absentmindedly.

The amazing part was the reception. A line of guards awaited where her transport had landed, and even her Jedi Master chaperone was allowed to come with her. But the people! She wasn't sure why the massive crowds surprised her so much, but she suddenly felt introverted and small, and kind of wanted to retreat. She hadn't expected all this….

When they finally got to the palace itself (grandiose, and very elegant and old world) they were lead through a small maze of hallways, until they finally reached a set of doors.

"Erm," the guide hesitated. "M-master Obi-Wan will have to wait outside. _You, _however," he said, turning to Mara, unsure of how to address her, "can come in."

Casting a glance at Obi-Wan and then at the solid door, she opened it, and walked as confidently as possible inside.

And she wasn't sure what she was expecting out of him, either, but she was somehow over and under whelmed all at once.

He was just sitting in a chair behind a desk to the right, patient and waiting, and he stood up when she came in, which had to be a good sign. The Imperial Prince was blond haired, blue eyed, affably smiling; he was tall, and rather thin, and he crossed half way to her, sizing her up the same way she was sizing up him.

"Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon," she replied, and he sort of motioned to a chair.

"Won't you sit down? The discussion might take awhile, so…"

She didn't say anything, just continued to watch him carefully as she took the seat. What was she waiting for him to do, attack her? Even she didn't know.

"Right," he sighed, settling back into his own chair and pushing the contract, wedding license, treaty mix to her all at once. "You can read through that, if you like. See if there's anything unclear. I think the treaty rules are rather simple."

All the same, she wasn't going to miss the fine print, and he waited very patiently for her to read the entire document before setting it down. "The trading lanes?"

"Established."

"The attacks?"

"To cease, Force willing. Anything else?"

"Yes," she replied, leaning foreword slightly. "Why me?"

He shrugged, very unemotional and unexacting throughout. "Why not? You'd want an ambassador anyway, wouldn't you?"

"Ambassador and Empress-"

"Not strictly Empress, thank you," he replied, tapping a paragraph on the data pad. "Yes, you're called the Imperial Princess, but in the event of my death, you cannot inherit the Empire. That would go to any heirs."

"Uh," she stuttered for a moment. "You mean ours?"

He shrugged again, leaned back in his seat. "Relax, it probably won't happen."

She rubbed at her head for a moment. "This whole thing's very confusing. Adultery?"

"Knock yourself out. But any kids that aren't mine _do not _ascend the throne, in case you had any plans in mind."

"You're safe on that account, believe me," she replied dryly. "And you? It seems to me I'm the one who has to be keeping up appearances to keep the contract from being void. You can do whatever you like."

"A pledge of good faith," he said, placing his hand over his heart. "I'm not trying to cheat you." She looked unconvinced. "I highly doubt I'll be having any royal bastards to put on a throne, you needn't worry about that. But as to keeping up appearances…" He stood up, walked around her once, very slowly, and it made her feel uncomfortable, before sitting back down again. "I don't suppose you have anything much fancier for official occasions, do you? Of course not, Jedi never do…Alright," he scribbled a note down to himself, muttering as he did it. "Just leave your measurements with an aide, we'll have some stuff brought in. Oh, and," he added, glancing in your direction, "if you could take a bit more time with your hair…" She didn't have time to be insulted, as he seemed to honestly continue, "You have very nice hair. Anything else?"

"Wedding night?"

"No obligation, unless," he grinned slyly, "you really want. No," he returned to his smooth, serious demeanor. "You come here, you put in your three months, you go home for three months, you come back, etc. No…intimacy," he struggled for the word, "is expected of you. Well, accept in public." She raised an eyebrow at him. "I mean things like holding my hand, or something. You know, the supporting wife role."

It suddenly dawned on her. "Ah, so _that's _it. I'm your propaganda bulletin." He seemed not to understand. "Your ticket to the masses?"

"Ah," he said, folding his hands on the desk. "Well, that was part of it, yes. Speaking of masses and propaganda, I don't know if you particularly care, but I'm afraid the wedding's going to have to be a rather noisy affair. I don't like it myself, but the mob is rather romantic."

"Do you think of them as the mob?"

"Do you think of them as really knowing what they want?"

She paused a moment. "That wasn't an answer."

"Nor will you get one. Now, if we're finished here," he stood, and she did, too. He carefully took her hand, Mara cautiously allowing him to take it, and lead her to the door. "Oh, and, as I'm sure you're well aware, after the wedding, absolutely _no _Jedi on my planet except for you." He turned somewhat stern, eyes flashing. An intriguing young man, this Imperial Prince… "And I mean that."

"And the politicians?" she asked sweetly.

"Upon request and research. Good day," and he opened the door to her and showed her out. "See you in a few months."

………………………………………………………………………………………

"And what did you think of her?"

Luke glanced up at his father from where he had been sitting in his father's study. If he didn't feel like being alone, it was a nice retreat, to run back to his father.

"Very nice, I suppose," he replied, making some absentminded gestures with his hands. "She didn't make the term, 'The gentle sex,' spring to mind, but…"

His father shook his graying head. "They never do." The Emperor walked over, placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "You'll work out fine, I'm sure."

Luke caught the hand as its owner began to walk away. "Do you think I've done the right thing?" He had that pleading look in his eyes that he always got when he needed reassurance, and Vader smiled.

"Yes, I'm sure all your plans will work out."

"I mean honestly, now, please?"

Vader clasped the hand firmly. "You needn't worry, I'm sure. You've got a good head on your shoulders. And it's a sound idea. Now, you look tired," he sighed as the young man yawned in defeat. "Why don't you go to bed, you'll feel better about your plans in the morning."

Young Skywalker conceded, wished his father a pleasant evening, and retired; this Mara Jade would prove interesting.


	3. Chapter 3

**High Flying, Adored**

**Chapter Three**

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone. Big surprise.

Author's Note: So, yeah, about not updating in a month – terribly sorry! I was going to see if I could update before my trip to Anaheim in March, but that didn't happen, and April's just been packed! I won't update again for a minimum of four days as I'm going to San Francisco for a competition (another one, joy…). I lost a tiny piece of an idea I wanted to use in this chapter, so hopefully it'll still turn out alright….your patience is appreciated. Hopefully in the next chapter or two it'll stop being so generic –sweat drop-.

Madame Naberrie: 1. Seriously? I played trumpet for a year, but that was to transition me to French horn easier, which I play now. I'm going to State for the solo comp on the 29th!

2. Well, I always thought he was kind of tall, but then again, I'm short. According to starwarsDOTcom, he's only a little shorter than Anakin, and most people consider him tall, so….

3. Oh, glad you like the gang, even if Luke's not in it….-cough- but thanks oh so very much for the WAIGT review! Much love.

Ledagirl321: Eh, not really, but for some reason, I keep writing him like that. I don't even know why, I prefer farm boy Luke, but I think it's because it's just such an interesting concept. Do forgive….

Shi Feng Huang: Oh, do please hold on for the twists! They should come soon, hopefully….

Crystal: Oh, interesting. As a matter of course, I don't usually take other people's recommended ideas, but if you wanted to do a co-written project, I'd be alright with that! But thanks so much!

denique: Hope you like this one as much if not more than WAIGT.

Encarna: -laugh- Oh, thank you! Sorry, that stuff was easier to do, it was just sitting in my sketchbook waiting to be put up, so I didn't have to do any major work…but thanks so much for checking my dA account and reading the story!

………………………………………………………………………………………

_High flying, adored_

_So young, the instant queen…_

- Evita

………………………………………………………………………………………

Mara was in a rush of doing three billion things at once, which was alright, as she was good at that – but it being her wedding day had her off balance. A vid link with Leia Organa on the other line was balancing on her dresser, a droid was helping her with her hair, and she was working on getting all spruced up for the walk down the aisle with dress, jewels, and the like.

"…And then Senator Gamboling said something to the effect that the Jedi were sellouts, and-"

"Wait," Mara interrupted, now about ready to seethe at Leia's report of a small incident back home. "What did he say?"

Leia was looking at her with a critical frown. "I don't like your hair like that."

"_That's _what he said?"

"No, no. I just don't."

"But, I…." Mara was going to try and get her friend back on topic when the thought really struck her. "…What don't you like about it?"

"It makes your head looks boxy. Can't the droid put some curls around the eyes?"

"Like how I let you curl it for Independence Day last year?"

"_Let me_! Ha! I had to tackle you!"

"Same thing. That way?"

"Yeah, just around the eyes."

Mara relayed the order, shook her head, and tried to focus again. "Anyway, what did Gamboling say?"

Leia was flicking through her datapad now, heaving a sigh. "It wasn't important, anyway, daddy gave him a sound talking to along with Master Yoda. At least you're marrying well, politically speaking."

"Why do you always have to change the subject when we're right in the middle of something?" She considered for a moment. "How am I?"

Leia blinked at her, surprised she didn't know herself. "Haven't you been reading the holo stats? Lord Skywalker is the most popular leader – excluding what the Republic Confederacy thinks – since the days of the Old Republic. His polls have just skyrocketed."

Mara fidgeted in her seat; something didn't feel right. She was about to ask why when Leia continued on, obliviously. "Oh, hey, I've been meaning to tell you! Mother told me what was on that little disk for Obi-Wan Captain Solo dropped by."

"_Captain Solo_? Did you have another fight?"

Leia shot her a terrible glare, which only made Mara grin. "Shut. Up. Obi-Wan let her see it. He also showed it to the Council, and I don't know whether you should be glad he did or not."

"Why?"

"Because, they were about to change their minds and tell you you couldn't go to Coruscant. Second thoughts, you know."

"What was on it?"

"Oh, just an in-depth explanation of why he was doing what he was, though I'm sure there was plenty he never said. Some of it was quite pro-democratic, too. Probably more on that disk than what he even told you." That _definitely _didn't sit well with Mara. "But that's not the important thing! I guess he goofed up, because he accidentally taped it at the beginning of a disk that had already been recorded on. And you'll never guess what was on it!"

"What was it?"

Leia looked hurt. "You mean you're not even going to try?"

"Leia," Mara was growling, and the younger girl relented.

"It was an old hologram, and I mean old. Almost twenty years old. One that Obi-Wan had recorded to-"

"_What!_"

"Yes, it was very strange, it-"

"No, no, stop! _Obi-Wan _recorded?"

"Yes, of course." There was a heavy silence, and Leia blinked uncomfortably. "Way back when he used to live with him on Tatooine."

"But he never…" Mara was whispering.

"What, you didn't know that? Oh," the senator muttered a bit more quietly. "I thought everyone knew that."

"Well, I remember the scarce details everyone else does, but Obi-Wan never talked about it…" Privately, Leia wasn't surprised, but the Jedi bride was continuing, so she wisely said nothing. "Did he do it intentionally?" Mara asked. "Was he trying to tell Obi-Wan something?"

Leia shook her head. "Doubt it, even he can make mistakes. I think he just grabbed the wrong tape."

"Anyway, why was Obi-Wan recording it?"

"To send it back to mother. He used to do that, to give her an updated."

Mara stared at the screen for a moment while the droid must have inserted the millionth pin into her head. After a second, however, it clicked. "Oh, that's right, I sometimes forget he's your brother."

"_Half _brother," Leia corrected, acidic. "Thank the Force I don't have his father!"

"Sorry, _half _brother." There was a pause. "What did your mother ever see in Vader?"

Leia sighed, shook her head. "I'm sure I don't know, and I don't intend to ask. Maybe," she continued, speculating, "something along the lines of what you're seeing right now?"

Mara paused a moment, sliding a bracelet onto her wrist. "Anyway," she finally changed the subject. "Why are Skywalker's polls so high?"

"You're not going to call him that when you're married, are you?"

"Are you going to call Han Captain Solo?"

Leia's eyes practically tripled and she did a frantic search around her. "Are you an idiot, what if daddy had heard you?"

"Now why don't you just answer the question," Mara prompted, grinning again.

Leia shrugged. "His good will tour."

Mara blinked, jaw hung slightly slack. "His what?"

"His good will tour," Leia repeated. "You know, the travel he did, the insane amount of money he donated." She sounded rather jealous that the Republic Confederacy didn't have those kind of sums to be able to doll out. "You rememb- oh, wait, that's right, you were on the Outer Rim doing your mission then."

Mara's head went into a momentary spin until it caught hold of something and stopped. And what it caught angered her beyond all belief. "That lying snake…"

"Beg pardon?"

"I can't believe he _did _that to me!"

"Did what to you?"

But Leia didn't have time for an answer, as Mara had bolted from her chair, despite the droid's protests, and stormed from her room. She attacked the first befuddled aide she found in the halls and demanded to know where the prince's rooms were. He stared at her for a moment before giving her quick directions, and she was off again. When she finally got to his quarters, she had to do quite the large manipulation trick on the guards before banging on the door once as a warning and throwing it open.

Her husband-to-be was quite surprised to see her, and had been in the process of un-buttoning his shirt when she came in. He hurriedly buttoned it up again, giving a quick half bow.

"Good afternoon, Master Jedi. Now, correct me if I'm wrong here, but isn't it bad luck to see the bride in her gown before the ceremony?"

Mara was a sight. Fully dressed, only half of her hair was up in the proper style and she was still working on getting jewelry on. But she was so angry with him she didn't care, and wasn't to be stopped by a small thing like the appearances he so believed in keeping up.

"How _dare _you lie to me like that!"

He blinked. "No, I think the bad luck thing is a custom in most pla-"

"Not that!" she barked. She now looked so ready to slap him that Luke quite seriously put up a strong barrier around himself, waiting for her to calm down and continue. "I'm not your propaganda bulletin at all, am I?"

He blinked, and it dawned on him. "Oh, my ticket to the masses?"

"Something like that," she snarled, and he shrugged, finding her outrage over such a thing ridiculous.

"You would have believed what you wanted no matter what I told you. It didn't seem worth the trouble correcting."

"Your pro-democratic talk, your 'Good Will Tour!'" she was muttering to herself, and he watched her strangely for a moment. Aloud and to him directly, she finally said, "you don't even need a ticket to the masses at all, do you!"

That surprised him, and in unaffected humility he replied, "I'm sure I wouldn't know. I would like to think not."

"The popularity polls said-"

"Popularity polls!" he scoffed. "You still think people know what they want?"

She paused. "So what am I?"

He blinked, realized what she was asking, and said a simple, "Oh." After a moment, he went on with, "I want peace, Mara Jade. And you're going to get it for me." She blinked, surprised. "I want this bloody war to be over with, and if that means bending the knee and aligning myself with the Republic Confederacy, so be it. But I need an insurance policy." It struck her as the most honest thing he'd said to her yet, and she didn't even have the heart to truly scrutinize the words; the Force told her it wasn't necessary.

"Now," he was continuing, and she snapped out of her thought, "I was going to change for the ceremony. If you're so eager to stay, fine, but I would ask you to wait until after the wedding to see me undressed. It's a touch more convenient." He smirked as she glared balefully at him, and quickly swept from the room. With a sigh, he went back to his business, and she found her way back to her own set of rooms.

Wearily, she plunked herself into her chair, feeling dazed and confused. Everything was so different than what she had thought it was.

"So," Leia continued. "I…think I'll tell you good luck with your nuptials. I better get off the link."

Mara wanted to ask her to stay, she felt nervous and lonely, but merely replied with a, "Thanks again, Leia. Tell everyone hello," and turned off the video link. She sighed, feeling like a rock was sitting on her chest, and she wished Obi-Wan were there. But she had faced more frightening things than walking down the aisle with the Imperial Prince, and it was hardly him that scared her. No, indeed. It was the unknown afterwards that did.

………………………………………………………………………………………

In a widely televised and publicized ceremony, Mara and Luke were wed late in the afternoon around 1730 standard hours, to be followed by a lavish reception afterwards, which was a bit more exclusive than the wedding itself had been.

Mara had, of course, been feeling terribly nervous, and she didn't know if the bridegroom had been as well. So, the Emperor leading her to her fate since she had no father she knew of, and Obi-Wan had been unable to attend the blessed event, she walked down the aisle and said the vows with her hands in that of the Imperial Prince's.

Somewhere between the "Till death do you part,"s and the "I do,"s, they had smiled at each other almost simultaneously for no reason they knew of, and did not discuss afterwards – or ever, for that matter.

But every nervous feeling Mara had had was gone after that, and even not knowing what would happen tomorrow, she finished her vow, and with a polite tenderness, kissed him.

And they were wed.

………………………………………………………………………………………

_He'd bought the sandy little hut from a poor land owner who had tried putting water vaporators around the place and failed miserably. No one had been interested in the property before, and the man had been desperate to rid himself of the failed venture. He'd seen no vaporators around when he bought it, so he figured they must have been sold for scrap or something._

_The last of Anakin's family had been killed by Sandpeople, that was somehow painful to realize, even if he'd never met them. So he'd sent a call back to Padmè and the Rebels asking what he should do with Luke in the meanwhile. After quite a lot of talk and shrugging of shoulders, it seemed silly not to keep the boy there when it appeared to be the safest place in the whole galaxy for him, and Obi-Wan as well. He didn't relish the idea of living on Tatooine. He hadn't seen it in fourteen years, and fourteen lifetimes would have been just as preferable. Of course, Ana- Vader…Vader would probably feel the same way, which is why he was staying._

_"Alright, Luke," he'd whispered, holding the small boy carefully as he examined the dilapidated hut. "We're going to stay here now, alright?" The small thing looked up at him with a quizzical expression, and he kind of had to agree with his assessment of the place. "Sure, it's a fixer-upper, but with some paint, a little furniture…It'll be a first class dump," he sighed, sitting on a dusty, empty box. It wasn't that he particularly cared about elegant furnishings, but going from the Jedi Temple to some hole in the wall to some hole in a desert in the period of a year was a little hard to handle. And he'd take the hole in the wall over this pile of sand any day. But what choice did they have, and he looked down at his charge, sighing._

_Still, the small boy smiled up at him so unrestrictedly that it undid him completely, and his tired heart melted. To the thing in his arms, the galaxy was a remarkable place._

_But maybe people like the tiny child could make it so._

_So he smiled back when it was all said and done, and sighed more contentedly than before. He didn't expect it to be easy, he never had. But big change could start very small – if small things could be carefully nurtured._

_And here in this hole in a desert, away from other Jedi and Sith and politicians and anything corrupt like that, he would nurture and protect the small thing entrusted to him. Of that he had full confidence in._


	4. Chapter 4

**High Flying, Adored**

**Chapter Four**

Disclaimer: See chapter three.

Crystal: I think you should be able to e-mail the website admin yourself, or maybe go thorough a step by step guide to joining. Have you read the ToS? That might help. Just try again, I suppose. But if you still need help, let me know.

Madame Naberrie: By all means, share. Things should, hopefully, heat up about now.

Shi Feng Huang: Thanks! That was the hope, so glad you liked it!

Amylion: Oh wow, thanks so very, very much!

Ledagirl321: Well, I kind of wanted to leave that short and focus more in on the reception. But I hope it didn't take away from your enjoyment of the fic.

Anwinn: Thanks, hope I can live up to expectations.

………………………………………………………………………………………

"_Oh, but, then,_

_As my life has been altered once,_

_It can change again!"_

- Beauty and the Beast

………………………………………………………………………………………

_He couldn't deny their decision had surprised him, at least a little. He supposed it made sense, after all, they'd been friends for a very long time. For Padmè, with Anakin gone, and for Bail, with Breha as gone as Anakin, just more physically…. Well, in any event, it made sense._

_"So then what are you going to do with the gi- Luke, don't put that in your mouth!" Trying to have a conversation over vid link had become an exercise in multi-tasking while trying to speak and watch over the almost eight month old child. He dutifully scooped up the boy, removing the sandy, grimy whatever from his hand and replacing it with a small, more mouth safe toy. There was a tiny laugh from Padmè, somewhat harsh in its desperation, as she wanted to be the one replacing the items in her boy's hands._

_"Anyway," he continued with a cough, eyes set firmly on the rather disappointed young child, "what about Leia? It would be disastrous for anyone else to know they're twins. With who knows now, the secret is safe, but…" He trailed off, not wanting to quite consider that possibility._

_"We've figured it out," she said confidently. "The only ones who have been allowed to see the children are you, Yoda, Bail, and I. Oh, and the med-droids, but that doesn't count. We're going to erase the memory on the droids and keep Leia hidden for another six months. By that time, I will have…." She struggled for a moment with the false term, "given birth to Bail's daughter. She's small for her age anyway, if we disguise things just so…and Master Yoda said some minor manipulations with the Force on her features ought to keep things secretive. We'll just say she's quick for her age."_

_"It doesn't help," Obi-Wan reminded, "that she already is."_

_"Yes," Padmè sighed, quite proud of her little girl. "She's an absolute jewel, bright in all the right ways!" After a pause, she managed to ask, "How is Luke?"_

_"Fine," he responded, motioning the not quite toddler over. "Here, Luke, say hello to your mother." With a grunt, he pulled the child onto his lap, and he glanced shyly at the vid link._

_"Hello, Luke," she said softly, and he merely waved timidly. He quickly put the child down again, sensing the heartbreak in her eyes even through the link was grainy._

_"I meant to congratulate you on your nuptials," he coughed, changing the subject, "with Bail. I mean, we talked about it, and all the plans its making work, but I never got to say anything."_

_She blinked, surprised, and looked like she would have rather continued a conversation on her son; but she was hardly opposed to talking about her new husband, and said with light confusion. "That was three months ago!"_

_"Oh yes, I know that. But you're busy, and I suppose I'm busy, and this damn-"_

_"Watch your language around him!"_

_"-Darn," he corrected himself stiffly, "vid link doesn't like working, and….in any rate, I suspect you'll turn out well. I don't mean anything romantic or anything like that, but…stable. Which is better than Anakin could offer, I suppose."_

_"Yes," Padmè sighed breathily. "True enough. But all I ever asked from him _was _romance."_

………………………………………………………………………………………

The ceremony, she supposed, was far more opulent than the wedding itself had even been, but maybe that's because it was more exclusive. Very few press people were allowed in, and while the wedding had mostly been dignitaries, it had allowed common folk to press about the windows and outside the doors. The reception was invitation only.

Of course, she didn't know a soul there. Now and then she'd be startled by a face she was sure she recognized from somewhere, and that would puzzle her for awhile – until she realized she'd seen their picture in a holo stat, or through one news bulletin or another. That was almost shocking. Six months ago, she would have laughed had she been told what she would be doing and who she would be with tonight. But there it was, all the same.

And her now husband was quite affable and handsome for anyone who cared to speak to him. He smiled for cameras and lead her around the massive hall with her arm linked firmly in his; she was unsure if this was to keep her from escaping or not. Fleetingly, she sensed he was more willing to escape the hustle and bustle of his own – well, their own wedding reception.

Strange…she made a point of it in her mind, and intended to grill him about it later. She almost liked this little deceitful game, finding out who could top who with what questions and seeing what information could be cajoled. She could almost see why Leia loved being the youngest member of the Senate so much.

He took her around, introducing her to Grand Moffs and foreign dignitaries, and it was all quite droll, waiting for the cooks to finish dinner – by this time, she thought she might faint with hunger. He'd been about to lead her away to someone else when her eyes caught sight of a body across the room, not quite skulking in a corner, but looking a little out of place and a lot sinister.

"Who's that?" she whispered to him, and he leaned his head down to catch it. A photographer snapped a picture of what he must of thought was a tender moment between the newlyweds and Luke shifted his stance – forcing her to do the same – and gave the camera a smile and a pose; it would all be on the holo net before the night was out.

She re-pointed the direction out to him, and his keen eyes scanned where she was looking. "The Falleen in the back, I'm _sure _I've seen him before…."

"Oh," he finally said, eyes darkening. He began to walk her on again, when she dug her heels into the floor in as delicate a way as possible – the last thing either of them needed was to seem the least bit confrontational in front of so many eyes.

"Listen," she hissed. "I don't know a soul here, so you can gallivant all you like, but if I can find a familiar face, by the Force, I will!" Her voice began to raise just a bit, and he pressed a smile onto his lips as someone walked by, pretending to laugh as though she'd just said something very witty.

"Oh, that's very funny. But I think if maybe we sat down for a moment or two…" She narrowed her eyes at him – didn't trust him, didn't like him. Never had, never would. "You're wearing monstrous heels, your feet have to be a little tired."

Well, alright, true enough, and she conceded. He lead her over to their own table, which was just as well, as dinner was just about ready to serve. To her surprise, when the dignitaries sat down, the Falleen sat at their table! Of course there were the obligatory people like Vader and Tarkin and such, but someone so unsocial…

_It wasn't the holo net_, she thought to herself. _I didn't see him there. I know if I just concentrate a little harder…_

"Well?" she demanded while the first course was brought around.

"His name's Prince Xizor," her husband said stiffly, cutting into his food and staring at it as though it were something very serious and note worthy.

"Of course!" she cried just a touch louder than the whispers they'd been exchanging, briefly drawing eyes in their direction. An admiral was talking, though, and the focus shifted again, leaving bride and groom more alone. "I _knew _it," she continued in a prouder, softer voice. "Black Sun, I'm stupid to forget."

"You'd do better _to _forget, I assure you."

"I don't see why. He's been very helpful to the Republic Confederacy now and then. I think I heard a senator say he even has a special place in his heart for us once."

"There's little room in Xizor's heart for anyone but Xizor."

This harsh, rather bold comment of his did attract her attention, and she looked at him curiously. With a great sort of effort he drew his eyes up from his plate and returned the look with a cold sort of warning.

"I wouldn't trust him, if I were in charge of the Republic Confederacy. I don't even trust him as in charge of the Empire."

It was somewhat surprising to hear him speak like that, and it almost confused her. Up until that moment, he'd been all smiles and gaiety, and didn't seem able to pick sides or offend anyone. He was too political for that. But such an outright statement reminded her that the flower face he showed her housed a snake beneath. She would be on watch…

"Then why," she whispered sweetly, leaning one elbow on the table, "is he the third most powerful man in the galaxy?"

"Because, my dear," he replied, leaning in with a sparkle in his eyes as if they were sharing some matrimonial secret. "He's been very helpful to the Empire now and then as well."

The words sent a cold feeling down her spine, and she didn't much want to eat anymore. But one man playing both sides of the fence seemed hardly a suitable reason to ruin a wedding, and when the dinner was finished, Luke took her hand to lead her to the dance floor.

By then, of course, her lips had formed something of a frown, and he leaned in, whispering, "Hey, what's with the face? Look bright, smile!" She looked up at him, blinking, and the deceitful game he was implying caught hold of her. With an understanding flash in her green eyes, she broke out into a grin, and even more pictures were being taken with the youthful look of happiness about them. It didn't matter that nothing could be further from the truth, it was easy to pretend.

"I think I can guess this somber mood of yours," he said genially as they moved in tempo to the music.

"I'm sure you can't."

"You're wishing your Master was here."

That _did _make a knot in her stomach suddenly spring up and grow cold. She'd been able to keep Obi-Wan out of her thoughts most of the evening, and to suddenly have them spring up on her like that…

She wouldn't see him or any of the people she'd grown up with for the next three months. She would be away from home, which wasn't anything special, she'd done missions far away before. But usually she knew she could return to a little changed Alderaan or even went with her master. But here she was, dressed up as something she never thought she should be, and knowing full well things would be irreparably different once she got back.

But it would help the people, which is why she did it. And he had said he'd wanted the war to be over….Of course, that didn't necessarily mean he cared about lost lives, wars were expensive. He probably just didn't feel like draining the pocket book of the Empire anymore.

Just as well. The Republic Confederacy would never have lost or given up. She knew this with her whole heart.

"If it makes any difference," he was continuing, "before you decide to extract any vengeance on me, I would like to point out that I did invite him. He declined to come."

_That _made more sense, then, and while it still hurt, it seemed to hurt _less. _

"Jedi don't take revenge," she sniffed, sticking her nose in the air for a moment.

"Ah, yes," he replied, "that's right. I guess I'm not up to par on my Jedi Code. Of course, I read once that they don't get married either." They looked each other straight in the eyes now; he seemed amused. She was glaring. "But I think we both know how untrue that is."

"I hope you know I can't stand you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Good, because I'm here to better the Republic Confederacy, and short of killing you – which I might do anyway, if you make it too tempting not to – I'll do whatever it takes to do that."

"Well," he responded dryly, "I'm sure you'll find _something _to occupy your time then, won't you?"

"Espionage?"

"Something like that."

"I am not a spy."

"No, I know that. That's why I picked you and not a senator. But I don't trust either of you, so don't take it as a compliment."

"You? Compliment me? Believe me, I wouldn't dream it."

"Ha!"

The music gave a brief crescendo before going back into a decrescendo and finishing up. They stopped, gave each other a small bow, and he whispered to her quickly.

"I know you'd much rather do a father of the bride dance with someone more father like to you, but _my _father seems to be the only plausible option. Unless you prefer Xizor." She glared at him again. "Anyway, you don't have to make conversation, just be polite. Turning on your…._classic_," he said as politely as possible, "charm is inadvisable from what you've shown me so far."

She wanted to ram something – preferably her lightsaber, which was sitting in her room – down his throat. But the only thing she managed as he walked away was to smile as the Emperor stepped up instead.

………………………………………………………………………………………

They'd watched the recorded portion of the wedding ceremony from a small holonet server, the four of them crowded around it. Partially because curiosity prompted them to, and partly because they'd promised to make sure it recorded for the ones too busy to go to their own holonet servers or to sit with the others.

But it was almost better that way. It made it a more…intimate occasion, and they liked that fine. They watched the young woman they'd raised since the age of nine walk down the aisle with the boy that…well…

Obi-Wan had retreated away from the screen long before the ceremony was over, and Padmè followed him.

"It seems," she sighed, "a little ridiculous that you refused the rather generous invitation."

"It would have been awkward," he replied, weary, "for everyone concerned. I wouldn't want to put Mara through anything that might make a difficult task more so."

"I think she wouldn't have cared at the difficulty if you'd gone. She just would have been glad you were there."

He laughed, leaned against a pillar. "I know that." It was almost condescending, his voice, and it gave Padmè a sharp reminder that however humanized the Jedi had become, however much she had meddled in Mara's life since she arrived on Alderaan seventeen years ago, they _were _still Jedi, with their own feelings and expectations; reluctant and otherwise. "But she's a smart girl. She knows I couldn't come."

"And it has nothing to do with Anakin?" she tried to tease, but they both knew she failed, and wished the subject hadn't been breached at all.

"Mostly because of Anakin," he responded gruffly. "Because I love him too much. Force," he turned back to the senator who looked up at him tragically. "I wouldn't go within ten meters of Anakin if I ever had a choice, not even if you paid me an insane amount of credits. But that doesn't mean I'll forgot how he was when he was a boy."

Padmè glanced briefly back at the holo screen, the image of the young man who had aged, gone grey, grown stately. But she didn't think he would have ever been that way if he'd stayed behind. It just didn't seem likely.

"You wouldn't have gone either, I suspect," Obi-Wan was continuing. "You don't want to be near him and you love him too."

Padmè looked down, swallowed, and nodded. "I suppose you're right."

He took her arm gently, and very carefully steered her back toward her husband and daughter. "Let us not think to the past," he comforted. "But to a future we may never fully understand."


	5. Chapter 5

**High Flying, Adored**

**Chapter Five**

Disclaimer: George Lucas, Timothy Zahn, a bunch of other people, blah, blah, blah…

A.N.: I've got a bad cold and am on medications. Therefore, please excuse any glaring errors or what not in this chapter. I think I got most of them, but…Yes, and as for the long time without updates, well, hum. So, the long and the short of it is I escaped a flaming bus and things have been a little hectic lately. True story, but, uh, unimportant.

Madame Naberrie: Yes, well, that does seem rather predictable, doesn't it?

Shi Feng Huang: Just you hope that Xizor doesn't kick the hell out of them.

Ttestagr: Hm, yes, I think I apologized for that before, but if I didn't, let me do so again. It wasn't intended to be, I'm trying to make it not be. But we'll see what happens. Sorry I could not meet with your approval.

………………………………………………………………………………………

"_The courage of a dreamer_

_The innocence of youth."_

- Once on this Island

………………………………………………………………………………………

"…Furthermore, you can't control the news services if the people ever-"

There was a commotion outside the door to the emperor's office, where he and his son were casually debating; no honeymoon for the Imperial Prince. But he didn't want one anyway.

Vader glanced at his son, who'd been in the middle of speaking, and raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like your Imperial Princess is arguing with the guard." Luke returned the look, but said nothing, merely adjusted his stance a little. "Should we go break it up?"

"No, I don't think so," the son replied, smiling. "She's certainly dogged. If she's going to be able to do anything around here, she'll have to make herself acquainted with the staff. And since she's not the most agreeable personality…" He shrugged. "Well, she can do what she likes, I don't care."

After a moment, the doors opened, and in rushed Mara Jade Skywalker, managing to look cool and confident even after her spat with the guard outside the door – of course, she was being tailed by the panting guard outside the door.

"Forgive me, My Lord," he begged of Vader, who looked as amused as his son, "but the…the Princess would not listen to me when I told her no one but the Prince is admitted to your office unless under direct appointment, and-"

"_I_ was hoping my new husband might show me around the city," she broke in, tossing the glare a guard before looking almost defiantly at "her new husband." "If I'm going to be his co-delegate then I might as well get used to the planet."

Young Skywalker looked about ready to burst out laughing, and it was with great effort he kept his composure. "Well, ah, certainly."

"But, sir," the guard was continuing. "I-"

"No, it's alright, Bibot," Vader said with a wave of his hand. "She's quite alright, she doesn't know all the rules yet."

"Yes, sir."

"If you'll just wait here a moment," Luke was continuing to Mara, "I'll go see about getting a speeder ready and change into a better shirt…" He glanced at his father and said, "If you could just entertain her for a moment, please, Father…."

"Yes, of course," the emperor sighed, taking a seat behind his desk and offering his daughter-in-law a chair as well. "I'd be delighted to."

Luke excused himself and the guard reluctantly tramped back out to his post. Mara glanced at the seat in front of Vader's desk and ignored it for the moment, favoring wandering over to the massive window view behind the desk.

"It's a very nice planet, isn't it?" he asked her rather more congenially than she'd expected he would.

"Yes," Mara replied politely as possible before finally taking the proffered seat. "I'm sure it's quite exciting."

"I'm sure I wouldn't know about that. But it's rather…orderly. I like that, my master helped me put everything straight…"

"Pity about his death," Mara said evenly, staring straight at him while the emperor unblinkingly sipped at his caff. There was never enough proof that Vader did depose Palpatine. But Mara, and most people, for that matter, didn't believe the propaganda that the Force Lightning that had first mutilated him had finally killed him.

The new emperor had to be a power hungry snake. That was the only explanation. And since the apple never fell far from the tree….

"Yes, it was. But that was…eighteen years ago, now." He shrugged. "Life goes on." He paused a moment, offering to order her some caff as well, but she politely declined, and instead he leaned back, examining the new member of his family for a moment. "You're probably too young to remember Emperor Palpatine."

"You'd be surprised. No, I was still on Coruscant when he died. Some of the ceremonies held in his honor stuck with me."

Now Vader chocked slightly on the caff, and everything about his previously sunny demeanor turned cold. Mara didn't trust it, but she didn't feel safe either. She couldn't take on a Master of the Sith, and she wasn't sure what she'd said to upset him, but clearly something had.

"You used to live on Coruscant, did you?" he asked, still trying to be affable.

"Yes, I did. Up until I was seven."

"You're Kenobi's apprentice."

"Um, yes…" she said hesitantly, not sure what that had to do with anything.

"I'm curious…" he continued, failing to remain genial – and, frankly, beginning to frighten Mara just a bit – "I'm curious as to how you got off world."

He began to stand up, and Mara shrunk in her seat slightly. "I…."

"It's just that Jedi have never been allowed here since the rise of the Empire, not until recently." When she said nothing in response, he began to press on. "So how did you come to leave Courusc-"

"Alright, I've ordered the speeder and reserved a place for us incase we want lunch!" It was Luke, who had just burst back into the room, as sunny as he had been when he'd left mere moments ago. The sharp contrast in attitudes from how he left immediately sobered him, and his demeanor dropped. Mara stood up, taking a place next to him, and Luke kept his eyes curiously on his father. "I…" he began, trying to asses what had happened in his absence. Finally he turned, smiling again to Mara. "Can you wait outside for a moment? I just wanted to wrap up what we'd been talking about earlier."

Mara was only too glad to leave, and obliged quickly. Vader sat broodingly back down, humming to himself. Luke watched him, slightly flabbergasted.

"For Force's sake, what happened! I haven't felt you so angry since-"

"She used to live on Coruscant."

"What?"

"She used to live here, on the planet. She's Kenobi's apprentice. How could she have gotten off? Or did he get on? And how could he do it without my noticing…why would he risk it, how did he…" He looked up at his son, grey-blue eyes looking almost pained, and Luke winced.

"I'm not spying for you."

"I didn't ask you to."

"No, but you were about to. How she got on or off is her own affair, and not concerned with diplomacy. At least, that is how the Republican Confederacy will react if you try and get too snoopy. It's all in the past, it doesn't matter."

"True," Vader mused. "But those who do not pay close attention to the past…are doomed to repeat it."

………………………………………………………………………………………

_And there was light and sound and terrible, terrible anguish….And he felt the work of nearly five years, the hope, the prayer, all of it…_

_Just slipping through his fingers._

_Just like the first time._

………………………………………………………………………………………

Mara waited outside the door unsure of how she had set the Emperor off, but vowing privately never to do it again.

_I wouldn't want to be like him…and I wouldn't want to be his son. No wonder Leia's so glad she's not his child._

Speak of the devil, his son walked out into the hall not much later, looking a little…uneasy, but he gave her a smile, and they started walking side by side. Silence reigned for a while until he finally coughed and said, "I, uh, see you had a heart to heart with my father."

"Something like that."

"I won't ask what, I think it's for the better."

"Thank you."

"Anyway," he continued, still cautiously unsure, "I wasn't entirely sure what you wanted to see, so I thought we'd sort of leave it up to your choice."

Mara gave him a look, flashed a dangerous smile. "Well, the Jedi Temple Ruins would be wonderful."

Her husband winced. "Um, are you sure? It's just a bunch of rock. I mean, I don't even know why it hasn't been cleaned up. Father's talked about it all the time, but I guess he's just so busy that he…." Well, he did something, anyway.

_Too busy_, Mara thought wryly. _Sure. Not._

No way. The former Chosen One, she decided, couldn't cast off Jedi bonds that easy.

"And when you're Emperor," she purred, glancing at him as he cast her a wary look, "you'll get rid of them, won't you?"

He gave her a very hard look now, and she backed off a little, thinking he would give her some of the harsh talk his father had delivered. Instead, he said, "The speeder's down that hallway, if you would so kindly turn to your right."

She wheeled, unaware that the hall had even been there. They both turned and walked down the long, somewhat dimly lit corridor, and after a minute, he took up the talk again. "Don't mistake me as overly sentimental. What you do as Jedi on Alderaan is perfectly fine. I'm not interested in it. And I don't care about some old building." He turned to her suddenly, and it surprised her. "The symbolism is _dead_."

She blinked, a little shocked, and replied, "No it's not. It can never be. The acts in and for that place are-"

"Acts in and of themselves are meaningless. History no more remembers the Jedi's time on Coruscant than it does any number of insignificant rebellions and senate acts. They were meant to shape a planet and in the end they failed."

Mara met his gaze for a very long time, was surprised with how much thought and significance he placed in the words. Had he thought about this before?

"You can't forget something so long as its still existing."

"Can't you?" he asked, his voice taking on a lighter quality as he started to walk once more. "I can think of several politicians that were magnificently powerful when I was a boy that are now in invisible retirement."

"Alright," Mara agreed, "let me rephrase that; so long as one person remembers the truth, then it isn't dead."

"But how can you know that the truth you were told is the real truth?" he laughed, seeming to think her naïve in her assumptions. "You can no more guarantee that what your Master told you is what really happened anymore than I can my father."

"But do you think that's what happened?"

He paused a moment, trying to think of the proper way to word things. "I remember something someone told me, and I forget who, but it was this – never be afraid to trust someone, and then research that trust as much as possible. Just because you trust someone does not mean you cannot look into what they tell you."

"Yes it does!" she argued. "Because that is not trust, that is a half trust, that is nothing. To be half of something is to be nothing at all."

"No," he said, pausing at a door. "That is knowing how to draw your own conclusions. There's a difference." He pressed a button and the door opened, cool air venting through. At his insistence, she walked in, and he pointed out their speeder. It wasn't terribly fancy, it could almost blend in with the regular traffic. But the back windows were tinted enough to not be able to see inside, and he gave the driver directions before holding the door open for her before getting in himself. "I believe it was one of your own very old Jedi from the past who said 'Every truth is subjective to its owner.' And I believe that."

"So you don't trust anyone?" she replied, tilting her head towards him and appearing as if she were asking flirtatiously about the weather. It didn't fool him, she'd tried that trick before.

"You mistake the difference."

"No, I am merely drawing my own conclusions."

"Dare I ask what they are?"

"That you are a Sith, and I am a Jedi. There can't be any feeling between the likes of me and the likes of you, and certainly no trust. To a certain extent, I think you were raised not to trust anyone, ever. I think that's made you careful, and I certainly think it will make you successful. But I wouldn't want to be you."

He'd grown tired of the conversation, and turned his head to watch out the window at the passing world. "Oh, and why is that?"

"Because it would be terribly lonely to never trust anyone at least a little."

"I trust people."

"I don't think you do. I think that because you are a Sith, you aren't sentimental, just as you said. You have a…a want of feeling, and therefore a want of trust. And I think you do feel the power of a place like the Jedi ruins because you are clever enough to do your own research and draw your own conclusions. So you do know the truth. And you know what that place really was, what it stood for. So I think you're afraid."

"I am not afraid."

"Do you trust your father?"

There was a long silence, and he turned slowly around, looking her straight in the eye so that she could not look away. "Yes," was the firm reply, and she finally lowered her eyes, released from his strong feeling on the subject, and said a simple, "Oh."

Silence reigned for a long time, until finally she said, "I wanted to see the Senate building."

He blinked, looked at her again, and told the driver the new directions.

………………………………………………………………………………………

"So what do I do?"

"What do you mean what do you do?" Luke replied drolly as he watched his plate be set down before him. They'd gotten a private room in the restaurant, and lunch for the starving husband was a blessing.

"I mean," Mara replied, "I'm here as a diplomat. Now what do I do?"

He reluctantly tore his gaze away from the food to see her waiting and expectant. "Ah," he said, catching on. "I could get you a secretary. Rearrange a few jobs, put you in charge of Foreign Affairs. How does that sound?"

"It's sounds alright, I suppose," she sighed.

He set his fork down, about to take a bite while she sipped her water glass. "What would you prefer?"

"I don't know politics very well," she hummed. "And I would be very grateful if you were to teach me the ropes."

He finished what he was chewing, raising an eyebrow. "So eager to spend time with me?"

"Not particularly. I just thought it was considerate to offer to let you train me before having someone like, say, your sister do it instead."

Luke stared at her for moment, utterly confused, before it all clicked with him. "Oh, you mean Organa."

"That's what I said."

"I, uh, don't really consider her my sister."

"Why not? I mean, after all, she is."

"Because," he replied, taking a drink, "I've never been formally introduced to her in my entire life. And she's only my half sister. But, changing the subject," he said, switching back to the old topic, "if you're worried I'll accuse you of espionage for contacting the Republic Confederacy while on Coruscant, you're wrong." He took another bite, swallowed, continued. "I trust you a bit more than that."

"What would have happened if we hadn't?"

"Hadn't what?"

"Hadn't gotten married. I don't feel particularly important."

"The treaty would have fallen through," he replied matter-of-factly, trying to continue his meal.

"Why?"

"Why so many questions?" he demanded, choking on his food.

"I'm sorry, I'm only a poor, ignorant Jedi. Why would the treaty have fallen through?"

"Because," he snarled, growing tired of her company quickly. "The Republicans would have wanted one of your far too clever and sneaky politicians to represent them, and the Imperials would never have allowed it."

"And…?"

"And since I like to think myself level headed, and your record suggested you could be, it became an ideal solution to all parties concerned."

She merely said, "Ah," and bent to her food, leaving the man flabbergasted.

"Is that all?" he asked, confused.

"That's all," she said simply, and continued eating.


	6. Chapter 6

**High Flying, Adored**

**Chapter Six**

Disclaimer: See chapter five.

A.N.: Alright, so the whole flaming bus incident is coming mostly to a close, and with school over, I'll theoretically have more time. I have summer reading and travel to do, but I'll hopefully update more frequently. We'll see!

MissNaye: Well, they're the only kind to have! –shrug-

tasuja: Thanks so much!

Picky: Great question, perfectly reasonable! I'm not quite going to answer that, as hopefully the fic'll do that soon. But I wouldn't worry too much, Padme and Bail are more like two good friends than anything resembling spouses; they still love their first partners.

Madame Naberrie: Thanks so much! I try rather hard at it…

Astaire: Well, I wouldn't call it word for word, but I _did _just buy the libretto at Borders (hey, it was on sale, how could I refuse?) and I did have to lift one or two lines from there. But good eye!

LJP: Happy to please!

………………………………………………………………………………………

"_I can't escape from him,_

_I never will."_

- The Phantom of the Opera

………………………………………………………………………………………

She tapped wearily on his door before it swung open a moment later, and, half exhausted, entered.

"Well," Skywalker said, "you certainly look pleasant."

Mara sighed, collapsing onto his couch. "It was a long day, alright?"

"If sightseeing is this stressful, maybe-"

"I did more than that!" she cried. "I had a lot of paper work from home, and then there were calls to make, and-"

"Alright, I understand," he said, waving a hand absentmindedly at her. "Care for some caff?"

"That's the most wonderful thing I've heard all day."

"I'll take it as a yes."

It had been his idea to meet in his quarters that evening. After returning to the Imperial Palace, he'd had things to do, and, as it turned out, so did she.

"Look, I'll give you those datapads you need to get you started in charge of Foreign Affairs tonight, alright?" he'd said, and she'd crossed her arms, raised her eyebrows.

"Don't you think that's a little suggestive?"

He snorted. "Hardly. We're married."

"I'm a Jedi," she reminded him.

"So?" he replied. "I thought you were supposed to be more lax on your policies. Besides, I'm not trying to bed you, I'm trying to make you my Foreign Minister. Do we agree?"

They agreed, and here she was, utterly exhausted, and longing for nothing but bed. But this was a moment she could probably work to her advantage if she played the right cards.

He placed the datapads next to the caff he set in front of her, and had to snap his fingers several times to awaken her from her sleepy reverie.

"You're tired," he openly noted. "This can wait until morning."

"I have letters to write in the morning," she grumbled, taking the datapads into her arms and setting them on her lap before indulging in her caff. "We can do this now."

He shrugged, sliding into his arm chair. He must be able to keep awake more easily, she noted, with all the practice politics forces him to make of it. She'd need to get some of that, and quickly.

"How is everyone on Alderaan?"

She stiffened. "Should I know?"

"I imagine you sent in a comm when you got back."

"You're _spying_ on me?" she demanded, about to go wild with rage, but he settled her again.

"Hardly!" he assured. "It was merely an educated guess. It's what I would have done in your position."

"And what position is that?"

"As someone far from home and rather alone, I should think."

After a moment, she finally said, "Everyone was fine, last I checked. I didn't get to talk with Master Obi-Wan."

There was a slight spasm in his face, and she thought for a moment she saw-

"The first datapad," he was saying, "is an update on everything going on in the Outer Rim. The second one-"

"I heard a rumor that you used to live with him when you were very young," she said smoothly, sipping the caff. There was that spasm again.

"The second one," he was continuing, as if she'd said nothing at all, "is what we currently have on file about the Republic Confe-"

"You're not listening to what I'm saying."

He sighed, gave up, stared at the table between them for a moment. Finally, with a wry laugh he looked up at her and said, "This really doesn't have anything to do with Foreign Policy, now does it?"

"I can figure out what's on the datapads, and I'll have my new secretary fill me in in the morning." She leaned back on the couch, and repeated, "I heard a rumor-"

"You hardly make it seem a rumor, and I think we both know it isn't," he interrupted with a certain desperation.

"Most people don't. Well, I mean, it's hardly a secret in the Republic Confederacy, you can find out if you want to, but nobody cares to."

"Well, it is here."

"May one ask why?"

"Does one need to?" he replied, now looking weary. "I'm heir to the throne."

"On Alderaan," she said, pausing to take a drink, "on Alderaan, Senator Amidala didn't take the name Skywalker officially into her name until your father kidnapped you."

"I'd hardly call it a kidnapping. Besides, he has the marriage license, I don't much care when she decided to be honest about what she must have viewed as a mistake."

She ducked her head now, decided either she'd said the wrong thing or he took it the wrong way.

"He never thought it was a mistake," Luke was continuing softly.

"I didn't mean like that. She told me most of the story once, said it was dangerous for you and for them, before they were a confederacy, back when it was just a Rebellion." She paused again, tried to gauge his emotions; but he was leaning carefully back in his chair, arm tossed over the back of it. He looked at her from half closed lids and said nothing at all. "And then she said that in contrast to that, the story on Coruscant was-"

"I know the story on Coruscant."

She paused again, careful. "Would you care to tell it to me, then, it always confused me."

He sighed, leaned foreword with elbows on his knees and thought for a moment. "It was generally announced that I'd been living with a man by the name of Skywalker for the last few years, almost my entire life; some sort of relative. So it was silly to confuse a child of five by switching their name to Luke Vader. Your Senator Amidala, supposedly, merely took the name to make sure she was identified as my mother."

"Most people were surprised the emperor and your father allowed that particular fact to circulate."

"There was no shame in it," he said stiffly, leaning back again. "Maybe the fact that my father _used _to be Anakin Skywalker was never widely circulated, but anyone who cares to find out can do so, and your Confederacy almost advertises it, I'm given to understand."

"Obi-Wan once said 'Let the people know the truth and the country will be safe.' We took it to heart."

"Not a very necessary truth, I'd imagine," he sighed dryly, staring blankly at her caff cup.

"No, but it is true, and there was no need to deny it."

"Why on earth did you bring all this up? It's not important. I'm not asking you about your past, I rather prefer that mine stay private."

"I've always been curious," she continued, half ignoring his last statement, "about what happened on Tatooine. Nobody ever talks about it. I suppose I can understand why, and I'm the only one interested in it. But I still should very much like to know."

The entirety of him had stopped moving, there was not so much as a twitch, and after a long moment the only thing he could muster was, "Let me get you more caff."

He got up and began doing so, and Mara could see a more direct approach would be necessary. "I-"

"You know I have never actually met my mother?" he continued, as if this personal vein was somehow less personal. "Not once in my entire life."

Well, if he was offering, then Tatooine could wait. "Do you want to?"

"Oh no," he was saying jovially, pouring her another cup. "No, no, I don't suppose so."

"Do you love her?" she dared cautiously, and he laughed.

"No, of course not! Why should?"

"Because she's your mother."

"As if that's supposed to make a difference. I don't hate her, either, if that's what you'll ask next. I don't suppose I feel anything for her."

"And your step family of sorts?"

He paused, sat down again, and very weakly said, more to himself than to her, "I used to wonder, when I was a child, if she left my father for Organa. He never told me. Why, they could have even been carrying on an affair for months while they were still married."

"Senator Organa," Mara was saying firmly in defense of the man who was family to her, "was still married at the time." Luke gave her a long, not quite hard stare.

"And do you really believe that's supposed to stop anything?"

Softly and tenderly she asked him, "Were you jealous of Leia when you were young?"

He scoffed, crossing arms and legs. "What a ridiculous idea!"

"Not to a young child, not really. If back then-"

He was getting annoyed again, and inside something was hurting. So his words became shorter and rougher. "What it comes down to is that she gave me up and left my father, and that's all that really matters!"

"But you're looking at it through a black and white spectrum, you have to take into account the shades of grey!" she cried, and their eyes locked with a fiery heat for a moment. "Look," she reasoned, "Obi-Wan once told me that what Anakin – I mean, your father…What he asked of Senator Amidala was morally out of the question. He wanted her to follow him in his descent down the Dark path."

"And what of it!" he cried, bolting from his chair in favor of pacing around his room. "To want someone to be with you is hardly-"

"You would not act so yourself, not when it compromised your every moral belief!"

"Wouldn't I?" he sharply replied. "Alright, take you and I; if we…if we really loved each other, cared for each other…and I asked you to follow me into Darkness…would you?"

She stared, transfixed, for a long time before honestly answering, "I don't know. I'm not sure. I…I think it would depend. Would you follow me?"

"Into the Dark?"

"Into the Light."

He stood and blinked a moment. "Touché."

"Maybe," she said, folding her hands in her lap and staring at them. "Maybe they never really loved each other enough to stay together."

He sat back down again, staring at the floor. "Do you believe that?"

"No, but I think you do."

"He loved her," he muttered, unhappy again. "He loves her still."

"And you."

"What about me?"

"You think she didn't love you enough, either. You think _that's _why she gave you to Obi-Wan."

"I never said that."

"What happened on Tatooine?"

"I can't _tell _you what happened on Tatooine!" he cried out, the most passionate and honest she had yet to see him, and it blew her mind. The emotion rolled off him in waves, and he clutched his chair with a ferocity, as if it was keeping him safe from sinking into himself; Mara was stunned. "_I _don't even know what happened on Tatooine."

They sat and stared at each other for a long time before Mara collected her datapads and prepared to go. She'd just reached the door and turned to say goodbye when he said, "I was too young, I think."

"What?"

"I was too young. Too young to leave and too young to live and too young to remember." And then his eyes floated up to hers, and locked for just a moment. "So I don't know why I do remember."

They stayed like that for a long while, too, until she finally opened the door. "Goodnight," she said simply, and walked out into the hallway.

………………………………………………………………………………………

"He is a puzzle, Master Obi-Wan, a real puzzle."

Mara had changed for bed and was about to go to sleep when the vid link call from Obi-Wan had finally come in. Not having been able to speak with him for days, and having missed him when she'd called Alderaan that afternoon, she was willing to stay up the extra bit of time to reconnect with the Jedi Master.

"Still," she yawned, sweeping her hair behind her neck, "I long to find him out. And so I shall!"

"I'm sure you will," he said. "You're very pesky about matters like that."

"I asked him about Tatooine tonight."

And _there _was that same expression on Obi-Wan's face as on Skywalker's! Not the twitch, mind, but certainly that very same look. "Mara," he sighed, "why would you do that?"

"Because I wanted to know. Leia reminded me the afternoon of my wedding, and since nobody else has told me, I thought I might as well know."

"I wish you wouldn't do these things," he half whimpered. "And you wonder why Master Yoda is wary of you? Ha!"

"I only ask what I want to know, and only because nobody ever thought to tell me," she replied with a certain amount of acid in her voice. "If I am ignorant and do not wish to remain so, that's hardly any fault of mine."

"Don't start that, Mara, don't."

"We will talk about this when I get home!" she declared, stabbing her datapad stylus into her palm. "Or I shall continue to be pesky. Speaking of which," she hummed thoughtfully, "his father took a great deal of interest at my having come from Coruscant."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, but the young Jedi was not entirely convinced he had no idea why. "Hm? And should this bother you?"

"He was quite testy about it, I assure you." A pause. "Is there something wrong with that."

"It's late, you're yawning again." Indeed, she was. "And at any rate, since I don't see anything wrong or important with it, that, too, can wait for discussion until you arrive." He smiled at her. "I miss you, Mara Jade."

"It's only another two months," she sighed, though it might as well have been two lifetimes. "And I shall see you shortly." They hung up after that, and Mara climbed into bed, thoughts plagued with the curiosity of her husband's statements throughout the whole day.

………………………………………………………………………………………

_He looked from one face to the other at the table, most of which were staring at the tabletop. "Well?" he demanded. Nothing. "Not one word?" Still not a sound. "Not even a reprimand – damn you all, I lost him!"_

_Padmè looked up now, looking pained and angered and tragic all the same. "Yes, you did. What would you like us to do about it?"_

_Bail spoke up next, trying to balance the emotions in the room. "It…it wasn't your fault, Master Jedi. Nobody could have expected-"_

_"We should have expected it. _I _should have expected it. It's my own damn fault. I failed him, the poor child…"_

_"Lost, all is not," Yoda said firmly, slamming his Gimmer stick onto the floor with a resounding "bang!" "Wait we will, and then maybe…maybe…"_

_He looked intrigued, raised an eyebrow. "You mean…we could get Luke back?"_

_"We could, we could…"_

_He turned to the others at the table, barely daring to hope. "Is there really a chance?"_

_Bail smiled. "There's always a chance, Master. As long as one can think." _


	7. Chapter 7

**High Flying, Adored**

**Chapter Seven**

Disclaimer: I'm too poor to own it and too poor to be sued, so, you know, just don't bother.

A.N.: Right, if I don't update again until mid-August, it's not because I died (I hope). I'm just doing a butt load of travel between now and then. I'll try and work on this fic more before I leave, but no promises.

Something Indiscript: Thanks, I enjoy those, too!

tasuja: That's an interesting point about not rushing. At this point in time, I thought I'd be a lot further than I am, but I'm finding it takes a long time to make sure everything becomes nice and flushed out. Thanks so much!

SkyBlueSw: Upset's not really a fair word, he's come to terms with that. But he's none too happy with Mommy for doing it.

Madame Naberrie: Hey, glad you're liking it. As for the italics, any paragraphs and such in italics are from the past, just to clarify. How far back in the past will become clear later on. Hey, have fun in Mexico! I'm leaving this Saturday for France. I'll be back to twenty ninth, but am leaving three days later for California. I don't think I'll update too soon… Anyway, thanks again, have fun!

LJP: Or maybe nobody will follow. But we don't get to know that yet.

Metroidvania: Oh, good, I'm glad to hear that! I think that Tatooine will be the next chapter. It is to bad about the Lars, but it was an unfortunately necessary plot device. The council isn't planning anything about Luke, they're pretty sure he's lost to them, and they have their hands full with Mara and the Republic Confederacy. As for if Luke's a Sith, not really, he's more of a politician than anything else. As for Padmè, it'll get even sadder this chapter. But careful, there's no way of knowing if she really slept with Bail or not. Thanks so much for a detailed and excellent review! Hope you enjoy the chapter!

………………………………………………………………………………………

"_Where have I been?_

_How did we change –_

_Caught in this strange_

_New music?"_

- Ragtime

………………………………………………………………………………………

_He had two hours, and that was all. Two hours to do what had taken two months to plan._

_Two hours. Was it enough time?_

_He would make it enough time._

………………………………………………………………………………………

The last public function Mara had to attend before her three months of unmitigated boredom and torture were through was actually the birthday banquet of her husband.

_Well_, she thought dryly to herself. _There was a time when he was actually born. I thought things like that spawned._

It was a surprisingly quiet affair, compared to the others, with only about seventy five people on the guest list and only ten journalists allowed to attend besides that. Still, the food was delicate and plentiful, and any gifts were accepted at the door.

"Did you get me a present?" Luke teased her as she sat next to him at the dinner table.

"I don't know, did you get me one?"

He gave her a confused look and shook his head. "I'll remember that for our anniversary."

Anniversary! They had one of those, now, didn't they? Force…

"I actually did get you a present she whispered secretly to him as a droid set her third course plate in front of her.

Skywalker raised an eyebrow, a little surprised and a lot wary. "Oh? What is it, an assassin."

"No, silly, that would be a present for me."

"Ah. Well, let's see it."

She shook her head slyly, a slightly maniacal grin playing on her features. "Not till after dinner. Secretive, you know? How about your room?"

He choked slightly on his water, unsure what to make of that. "Well…and I thought you were supposed to be a Jedi?"

"Are we agreed?"

"I rather like surprises. Alright."

Another course was served as they ate in silence – and when those plates were taken away, Mara finally spoke again. "How old are you?"

"Twenty six."

"I'll be that next month."

"I shall send you a present, since you'll be away."

"Yes," Mara sighed, stretching slightly in her chair and grinning at the thought of it. She glanced at him and added, "I'm sure you're glad to be rid of me."

"Of course. And you'll be glad to be rid of me."

"Just so."

They smiled at each other momentarily, and exchanged only a few words throughout the rest of the meal.

………………………………………………………………………………………

Mara had to sit on his couch and wait for him for a good ten or fifteen minutes since he had to talk to his father briefly. At least, he'd told her to sit and wait on his couch. But he hadn't said she could roam about his room, if just a little. And so, without much thought, she began browsing.

Until she came to the shelf with the data chips.

One hand flew to her pocket momentarily and then instantly drew back again. They looked identical to the one that had been delivered to Obi-Wan, some labeled, some not, but so alike that it would be easy to mislabel one, or not at all. And when you needed a message recorded, just grab one, not knowing it was the wrong one, and-

Her hand went back to the pocket, but fell to her side when the door began to open. She threw herself onto the couch, looking sprawled and careless. The Imperial Prince raised an eyebrow at the slightly suggestive way she was sitting before shutting the door again.

"Well," he laughed, "I guess I _do _know what to make of your present."

"I should hope not," she replied, finally allowing her hand to dig into her pocket and withdrawn the small, wrapped object. "I'd rather hoped to surprise you."

Without the least bit of suspicion and an air of utter joviality, he took it from her and settled himself onto the chair across from her, opening it. Finally removing the last of the wrapping, he raised an eyebrow, holding the object up to the light before glancing at his wife.

"A data chip?" he asked, a little confused.

"Yes," she said, sitting up and becoming serious in a desperate way. "Yes, it is."

"I don't-"

"You sent Obi-Wan a message a week before I visited you on Coruscant, to outline your intentions and such."

He set the chip on the table, standing up and stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Yes, I did, what of it."

"I never got to see the message, you know."

"No, I didn't, and I don't think that really chang-"

"Because," she cut him off, picking up steam, "because the tape you selected to record on wasn't blank."

He blinked, recoiled slightly. "What?"

"It wasn't blank, there was something already on it. The first bit of it was blank, a little more than enough to accommodate your message. That must be what tricked you." He sat back down again, a sick feeling in his stomach. "But that's the chip you sent Obi-Wan, and after your message is one of the recordings he'd planned to send to your mother."

He stared at her in horror for a moment, trembling at the very notion of it. Under irresistible impulse, his shaking hands picked the data chip up, examining it carefully. "You can't be serious…"

"I have to wonder how you got the chips at all, the ones that weren't sent to your mother. Are that what those red labeled ones are? Are they mementos of a childhood you never-"

"Please!" he begged her in a slightly desperate voice. "Please…stop talking."

She looked at the floor, debating whether she should have given it back to him or not. "I never looked at it," she repeated. "Obi-Wan only let me have it if I promised not to watch it. I brought it with me when I came here for the wedding, but I still wasn't sure if I'd give it back to you or not…"

His voice cracked as he spoke. "Why did you wait three months."

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "Nerves mostly, I think. And I thought…I thought the less time for you to think on it, since I'm leaving tomorrow evening, I thought that…somehow…it would be easi-"

She stopped talking since he got up, still shaking, and slowly put the chip back on the shelf. Mara stared at his broad back for a long time before he finally whimpered, "You really do hate me, don't you?"

She was taken aback by the comment, not expecting the gift to be received quite like that. Rather than respond, she stood up, began to take a step toward him, and changed her mind. Instead, she went to his door, and said, "Goodnight, and happy birthday. I'll…see you before I go tomorrow?"

He faintly nodded, back still to her.

"…Good. I wouldn't want…" She didn't finish it, stared at him with an immense pity before quickly saying, "Goodnight," and leaving.

………………………………………………………………………………………

"Um, Lady Skywalker?"

Mara had been supervising the packing of the few things she'd need to take with her back to Alderaan – work was never done – when the aide approached her. It was a surprising title to her ears. She was on such good terms with her secretary she insisted on being called Mara. To be called Lady Skywalker didn't seem appropriate. Still, she supposed it was less of a mouth full than Lady Jade Skywalker.

"Yes?" she replied, turning to the confused and slightly nervous aide. What could…

"Lord Vader wishes to speak with you."

_That _was enough to make Mara's blood run momentarily cold. She didn't particularly like being alone in a room with the emperor, not after what had happened that first time. Still, Lord Vader had become strangely reclusive in the last week of her imprisonment on Coruscant, keeping to his room and seeing only a few select aides and his son. Not even stuffy Grand Moffs were allowed in, a fact that she knew had rankled them.

But, if the emperor was summoning her, then she would find herself in a world of hurt if she tried to refuse. So, gulping and reluctant, she followed the aide to the door to his library, and he let her in, but did not follow.

Mara was surprised, not in the least fact that the library was completely pitch black. A curtain was moved slightly to give Mara enough light to find a chair to sit in before being slid shut again. She saw the tall shadow of Vader sitting about seven feet to her left, and angled herself a bit in an attempt to see him. As she did so, he broke out into a hacking cough, startling her slightly.

Hesitant, she asked, "My Lord, you are not well?"

"No," was the dry, husky reply, very unlike the emperor's voice, yet she could sense it was him. "But it is passing."

Pausing again she asked him, "Is it…is it necessary to sit in the dark."

"I find it more comfortable. Does it bother you?"

"If you are comfortable, then that is all that matters, My Lord."

"I'm most certainly not comfortable, you can content yourself in that."

She didn't know how to respond to that, and instead went on to the reason behind her visit. "You wanted to speak with me, sir?"

"Yes," he wheezed slightly, pausing to cough violently into what appeared to be a handkerchief. "Yes, I….What do you think of my son, Jade?"

Just Jade? No Lady Skywalker, or Jedi, or anything? Well, it made things easier.

"I…" she tried, but Vader continued speaking.

"He's a good boy…a good man, I suppose, yesterday proved that."

"You must be very proud," she ventured, and she could vaguely see him nod in the darkness.

"He'll make a fine emperor." She said nothing, didn't know what to say. "He's very…he takes the people to heart. You have not seen him do this, you have not been here long enough. But you will."

"He told me once," she managed to say, "that he felt the people don't know what they want."

Vader shifted in his seat. "Yes and no. They don't know what they want, really. Some minutes in democracy and the next they want somebody else to make the decisions. People are very fickle, and rarely happy."

"I guess…." She replied timidly, "I…never quite thought of it that way before."

"That's alright," he assured, "don't take it to heart. You haven't been in politics very long."

"No, My Lord."

"But they do know what they want, or rather who. They want him, you should have seen his Good Will Tour. It was astounding." She said nothing. The emperor continued

"He's very democratic, you know. At least, that's what he prefers. He'll never give up the throne in favor of democracy. He's too strong for that, or not strong enough, I don't know which. But I think it's because he's such a fine negotiator, he's ready to accept compromises. He'll give people a choice and then let them pick, and if it was the wrong choice, then he'll fix the damage and forgive the people for it. He's always been like that, really."

Mara was staring at the floor, a lump in her throat, and did not respond. Why was she here?

"I think he gets it from his mother. Some doctors say you can't pick up parental traits if you never meet the parent, but that's not true, he proves that's not true. You're well acquainted with…Senator Amidala." He choked on the name and Mara pitied him immensely even for all the amount she was glad that the senator was with Bail Organa now. "Perhaps you see a little of her in her son?"

It was like turning on a light, even in the dark of the room. It explained so much. The Imperial Prince may look like his father and share his destiny, but the reason Mara had never really hated the man was because she loved his mother, and in reality, he was his _mother's _son, not his fathers. It made her feel almost guilty.

"Yes," she whispered in the dark. "Yes, they do share startling similarities."

Vader leaned back, satisfied with the answer. "He's got all her powers of negotiation, I never negotiate. Can't afford to. Well, you saw the treaty. It was a fine piece of work, wasn't it?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Yes, and he crafted that all himself. I only looked at it on his insistence that I approve it." A long pause. "He's a good boy."

"Yes, My Lord."

"Yes. He'll make a fine emperor." With a touch of desperation, he added, "And you'll support him, won't you? He'll need that, you're a part of this now, whether you wanted to be or not."

"I signed the contract and pledged my support to whatever he'll carry out. And I will do just th-"

"No, no," he said, feebly waving his hand. "No, it's more than that, Padmè and I learned that much." Mara was surprised he didn't pause over a name he seemed to find sacred. "Mere political support will not let a thing live. It has to be heart felt and real, a willingness to sail into fire. Would you sail into fire?"

"I don't know, it would depend."

He stared at her a moment and decided, "I think you'll be willing to, if you ever need to. I can tell that sort of thing about people." She said nothing, went back to staring at the floor. Slowly, he said, "I won't ask you about Amidala, there's nothing I'd really care to know."

"No, My Lord."

"You can tell her that, if you like, if you really have to. It doesn't matter."

"No, My Lord."

"You see, because…I do still love her and I always have. And I probably always will. I didn't go chasing her across the galaxy, that would be foolish. It wasn't meant to be." Mara gulped again, the lump in her throat still present. "If she'd wanted to come back, she could have, but for all the emotional support we threw at each other, I guess we needed the political, too. People can't survive without both."

He stopped for a moment, folded his hands in his lap and sighed very slowly. "I didn't go chasing after her, but I did go chasing after Luke. I had to. Every thing in me deemed it necessary. I guess I could have lived with her hiding him from me, I guess I could have, somehow. But it's the bloody fact she didn't let me know a thing about him. That's what I couldn't stand about it. He's half mine, you know, I deserve to know something." Mara nodded, slightly misty-eyed. "Yes…And I don't suppose it was fair for me to lock him away from her, too, put her through everything I went through not knowing where my child was in a large universe, not knowing what he thought or felt, especially about me. I didn't want him to hate me. I could have lived with him not loving me, but I didn't want him to hate me. You understand."

Choked, Mara replied, "Y-yes, My Lord."

"Hm." He nodded. "I didn't chase after her, but I chased after Luke, would have chased after him if it took me my entire life. He was worth it, you know. You don't know what I went through-" he paused here, almost unable to handle the emotion of the memory, "-when I finally got him." She didn't know what anybody went through. Not the emperor, not his son, and not even Master Obi-Wan. "I'd do it all again, every blessed thing if I had to, because I don't think life would have been very worth living without him."

They looked at each other for a long time in the dark before the emperor spoke again.

"I love him very much."

More silence before Mara said, "Yes, My Lord, a blind man could see that."

Vader faintly smiled, even though she couldn't see it. "Yes…" he hummed, still smiling. "I want you to have a nice flight back. I know you will. Goodbye, Mara Jade."

She stood up and bowed respectfully to him. "I hope you feel better when I return, My Lord."

He laughed then, a very husky and dry laugh. "Don't worry. I'll be completely healed." And he continued to laugh. It disturbed Mara a little, but she said nothing and left the room.

She was surprised, upon leaving, to find she had to wipe away a few renegade tears.

She hadn't thought the emperor had a soul.


	8. Chapter 8

**High Flying, Adored**

**Chapter Eight**

Author's Note: Right. So. About not updating…..As forewarned, I had a _lot _of travel to do this summer. After I got back, I had a lot of homework. And after THAT my friend chained me to a different fandom and has refused to let me work on this thing since July. It makes me want to cry. Now, I actually wrote this up before I left in the summer, and it's just been sitting here awaiting its turn. So, bear with me, guys. It's my last year of high school, so I'm uber busy, and I'm still not allowed to write outside that other fandom until a few more plot bunnies and commissions get taken care of. Weep for me.

Disclaimer: See chapter seven.

AriesFireGirl: Sorry, I know it's confusing. It's kind of supposed to be right now, and, really, through the whole thing. I invite you to draw your own conclusions, but hopefully it will get less confusing as time goes on. But you're pretty much on the money now.

Metroidvania: In this case, he happened to just make a really stupid mistake. Miss labels, you know how it goes. But thank you for your comments, they're very insightful.

Shi Feng Huang: Well, maybe he just has a really bad cold…

Amylion: Great! I'm really glad to hear that, thank you!

Princess-Aiel: Thanks so much.

Rignach: Well, not soon, but glad to know you like it.

Madame Naberrie: I'm glad to know you liked it, I enjoyed it myself.

LJP: Well, he'll be what his father taught him to. I can leave that up to your interpretation.

Something Indiscript: Thanks!

TnTornado: I'm glad I could win you over, thanks very much.

Encarna: I'm really sorry I haven't done this sooner.

………………………………………………………………………………………

_I'll forget you_

_There has to be a way_

_To let you go_

- The Scarlet Pimpernel

………………………………………………………………………………………

"Oh, let me see you! You've been gone for three months, it might as well have been three life times! Come here!"

The Imperial Prince had seen her rather cheerfully off that evening, to her surprise. No mention of last night at all. Something of a crowd had gathered, and he made no real speeches, at least not publicly. He held her hands and plastered a grin onto his face and told her absolutely political things – the sort of things he expected her to get done as his Foreign Minister in her three months away. She could act too, and she did act; she bowed her head and smiled modestly and laughed every few moments as he said something completely unfunny.

"It's all for show," he'd explained to her jovially before they went outside.

It would have looked just fine, too, had not an aide come hurrying up to the man saying, "My Lord, your father requests your presence."

The drop of his features to be resumed by utter panic did not escape Mara and he said a simple goodbye before hurrying away.

_Good riddance,_ she sighed to herself, and left Coruscant.

And now she was greeted by all the Jedi and several senators as well as some reporters and being tightly embraced by Senator Amidala.

Padmè put her at arm's length, appraising her. "Well, you don't look at all different."

"What, you mean the evil didn't rub off on me? There's a relief."

"Don't joke about that just yet," Master Obi-Wan cautioned her. "The Council will have quite the gauntlet of questions to put you through."

Even bad news like that could not diminish the joy Mara felt at seeing her master again, and she took his hands in hers.

"I am very glad to see you."

"And so am I. Life got too easy without your temper to watch."

She smiled more and said nothing before finally asking, "I was hoping…could we talk tonight?"

The grizzled Jedi smiled at her and squeezed her hands. "Of course we can, I expected that's what you'd want."

She lived the rest of the day merely for that promised moment. Master Yoda asked her some surprisingly easy and straight forward questions that she answered to the best of her ability. She had dinner with the people she'd missed, and a few rather boring speeches were given. She briefly spoke with a couple of holo net reporters, and finally, _finally _found her way to her master's room in the cloister.

"Now," Obi-Wan said, hands behind his back as she settled into a chair with a satisfied sigh. "What is it that you wanted to talk about?"

She looked at her hands a moment before guiltily admitting, "I was…hoping we could talk about when you were on Tatooine."

Obi-Wan's smile dropped from his face and he wearily sat down. "I was hoping you'd forgotten about that."

"I can't forget those sort of things, you know that."

"I don't understand your fixation with those events. The Old Republic, the former Jedi Order, fine. But the details and the people don't make sense."

"It's important to me." He didn't respond, and she leaned forward, eyes flashing. "It is a part of _who I am_."

The Jedi scoffed. "How? You were not born when Anakin fell, you weren't even old enough to _care _about any of that when those things happened. You did not come to Alderaan until long after the consequences had played themselves out."

"Maybe so," she said firmly. "Maybe so. But it is a part of the history of the Republic Confederacy and the New Jedi Order, and it is a large part. And I am a part of those things. That makes them a part of me."

Obi-Wan stared at her for a moment, sighed, tried to side step the issue. "No, Mara, really, you don't have the whole picture. It started long before you were born with-"

"I _know _about Anakin and the Fall," she insisted. "I know that Senator Amidala left him for Senator Organa, all of that is unimportant. I even know why he went chasing after his son, he told me that much himself."

Obi-Wan was slightly astounded. "He told you that? Anakin – I mean Vader – I mean – Damn it, Mara, I do not wish to get into this topic with you, I really do not."

"Well, you don't have a choice." They paused for a moment to merely breathe. "You had your eighteen years of grace time, and now I need some answers." He said nothing. "I _need _them, Obi-Wan."

He sighed, sat down. "Alright. You win. Where do I begin?"

Mara thought for a moment, bit her lip. "Who decided he should go to Tatooine."

"Everyone, really," Obi-Wan said slightly impatiently, crossing his legs. "Master Yoda had been quietly advocating it for a while, but it was Senator Amidala who had the final say. She asked Senator Organa what he thought, and he agreed, and I agreed to take him there."

"Why there? Why not someplace else equally remote, or even more so?"

"He had a step aunt and uncle there, Owen and Beru Lars. We'd planned to have them raise him and I would train him when he was old enough, staying around to watch him grow up."

"That didn't happen…did it?"

He sighed, uncrossed his legs. "No, it didn't. The Lars' had been killed by the local Sandpeople by the time I got there. Everyone agreed it was silly and slightly suspicious looking – not to mention dangerous – to turn around and come back after all of that. So we were to stay on Tatooine together, just the two of us, and I would raise the boy myself. For Padmè's sake, I'd make recordings of Luke every month or so on data chips and send them to her. She needed that…even after Leia was born. He was still her son."

"But Luke said-"

"You're calling him Luke now, are you?"

Mara flushed slightly. "It has less syllables than Skywalker."

"Ah."

"But he said that he'd never met his mother…"

"No, and he never has, not really. She gave him up when he was about a month and a half old. They could communicate through vid link of course, but Luke…" Obi-Wan stood up, pausing to put his hands behind his back and close his eyes. "He was rather distant from her, she could tell that, I think. I think maybe he…resented her, just a little. He was young, you understand. Young children can't understand things that are supposed to be better for them that hurt." He did not sit down again, and instead began pacing. "But he was never distant with me, it was surprising and…and a little wonderful, I suppose. He had so much affection, those five years we were together, and he…." He gulped, clutched the edge of the chair he had been sitting in before continuing.

"We agreed to be very honest with him, right from the start. We told him who his father was and why he could never meet him. Without putting on pressure, we told him it was his destiny to become a Jedi and defeat his father. That way the Republic could live again."

Mara paused a moment, fiddling with her robes. "What happened? How did Vader find him?"

Obi-Wan swallowed and shook his head. "I don't know. Somehow, he traced us there, and then…"

Mara felt almost…_betrayed_, the way Obi-Wan retold it. His eyes lit up in a way she had never seen before, a way they'd never done for her accomplishments that sounded meager in comparison to what Luke Skywalker would have done if Fate had given him half a chance.

Obi-Wan did not let the emotion break him the way it had the emperor, and he rounded on the girl now, ringing his hands. "So _please _don't ask me what happened then or after, or anything else about Tatooine. Not ever! If you have any value for the fact that-"

"Any value!" she cried, cut to the quick. "For what? For the fact that you loved that boy, that you never meant to let him into your heart and all the same he became more your child than Senator Amidala's? Or even Vader's? Value!"

"Mara, please, I-"

"I never had to compete with Anakin Skywalker, did I?" she demanded, and the Jedi stared at her, not understanding. "All those years when I was a child when I would have _killed _to have the place in your heart he had as the first padawan you ever had, the Chosen One, the one you felt you failed….I never was competing with him. I was competing with his son."

Obi-Wan gulped, sat back down. "Don't turn it into that sort of game, Mara."

"Why not? It's the kind of game it is. Young children have to play those sort of games, it's the only thing they know. I was never a daughter to you, and I took second place as your padawan. I don't know what I am to you now, even!"

"You're wrong," he said fiercely, shaking his head. "You have always been wrong. You hold your own place, everyone does. I never asked you to be a Skywalker, I asked you to be you."

"Then look at me the way you would have looked at him!" she demanded, clenching the arm rests of her chair. "I've never been good enough for anyone, my entire life. I wasn't good enough for the parents I never had, I wasn't the Jedi's Chosen One, and I wasn't even the boy you loved."

"It's not a measure of good enough or better," he stated more evenly and passionlessly than he had before. "We must measure a man as a man, not as anyone else in the galaxy or in the heavens."

"And how do you measure that?"

Obi-Wan stood up now, smiling. "You've found a topic to meditate on, I think," and he walked past, placing his hand on her shoulder for a moment. "And you're wrong. You've always been good enough for me. More than I deserve, in fact."

………………………………………………………………………………………

_"Stay here, keep still. Think invisible thoughts."_

_…"Why do you have to have him? Because he's your next step to power?"_

_"No, because he is mine!"_

_…"Lord Vader, the Emperor is demanding that you make contact. He wants to know what happened to the Jedi."_

_"He's dead. I killed him….At least…I think I did. He…he fell off this cliff and if he can't be found, then he must be dead. Isn't he dead? Oh, God, please let him be dead! I couldn't survive with a living corpse on my conscience."_

_…"Come on, my boy, I've searched the entire galaxy for five years looking for you. If you think I'm going to give you up merely because you don't want to come, then you have another thing coming."_

_…"It doesn't matter if you are my father, and it just so happens that you are."_

_"Oh, he told you all that, did he? Surprising, Obi-Wan wasn't known for honesty."_

_"He never lied to me!"_

_"Then give it time and he would have."_

_…"The moral right-"_

_"Moral right? You're five years old, you know nothing of moral rights! Now, come along then, you're going home."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because I love you too much to leave you."_

_"You don't even know me!"_

_"Who said anything about that? Since when do you have to know someone to love them?"_

………………………………………………………………………………………

Obi-Wan found her again later that night sitting by the fountain, letting her hand drift in the water. It was late, and she was tired, but sleep would not come, she knew that much. Obi-Wan must have sensed it, she thought he'd been keeping a close watch on her emotions since their talk.

"How was your time meditating?" he asked her softly, coming up behind her but not sitting down next to her on the rim of the fountain.

"I saw visions," she replied very quietly. "You don't need to tell me what happened on Tatooine. In fact, I'll never ask again, not anyone."

Obi-Wan smiled at her sadly and kneeled down with a slight grunt. "Sometimes we wish we can unask questions."

Mara brought her knees to her chest, sighing. "There was so much…emotion of it. For all the emotion everyone displayed, all the warnings not to ask, that I wouldn't like the answers that I'd get…I never thought that…"

"It's a forgivable crime in the young." He paused a moment, watching her sympathetically before asking, "Tell me, then…what did the Force show you on Tatooine?"

Mara sighed, pulled her hand out of the water. "Vader's landing on Tatooine was a surprise, nobody expected it. You tried to run with Luke, but you knew you had to fight Vader. You hid him behind some rocks near a cliff and told him to hide his presence. And then…." She gave a shaky sigh. "And then you fought him, and he knocked you off the cliff and had search teams looking for you, but they never found your body – you had to be dead. And then he found Luke, and I don't know what happened after that, really…"

She turned around, crying slightly, and buried herself in her mentor's arms. "The worst part was even _I _thought you were dead for a moment."

"I was dead," he sighed, stroking her hair. "Had Luke not been there, he would have known better, would have known that no body meant no death. But he was too preoccupied, all he really wanted was his son. And that's what he got."

"Master, I…I'm sorry about-"

"No, no, shhhh," he soothed, giving her back a slight pat. "No, I understand all that. So do you, now. So it doesn't matter. You've learned, that's enough. Enough for the present, anyway."

"Yes, sir."

"Now," he smiled, pushing her out to arm's length. "Let's get you to bed, you've had a hard day."


	9. Chapter 9

**High Flying, Adored**

**Chapter Nine**

Disclaimer: Every single character mentioned in this chapter does not belong to me and is used without permission. No money is being made.

Author's Note: I am really terrible to you people, I know, I never do update anymore. Unfortunately, this year is insanely busy and leaves me little time to work on this fic, due to other projects, a play I'm writing, and schoolwork in general. I am so, so sorry, I will sincerely try and get this thing updated a little more often. In all reality, while I do still write fanfiction, it's mostly for one fandom and never usually published anymore. This has been sitting here for a month, waiting for me to work on it, and my own lack of inertia made me forget a few of the things I wanted for this chapter. Nevertheless, I'm going to sincerely _try _and get another chapter up soon. Please bear with me, guys, I know I'm awful.

AriesFireGirl: Yes, it was Anakin.

Tanydwr: Oh, yeah, I'm a regular elitist, they're my passion. I have designs on being a librettist.

Madame Naberrie: It should start really picking up soon.

TnTornado: Aren't they just little brats :P

Talenyn01: I'm very glad you're enjoying it!

wAcKaMoLe911: Thanks so much, hope it was worth the wait!

………………………………………………………………………………………

_Wait!_

_There's no mountain too great_

_Here these words and have faith_

- The Lion King

………………………………………………………………………………………

Mara was anything but idle in her three months on Alderaan. The Council seemed perpetually worried that left to her own devices she may turn Sith on them, as if it were some contagious disease. They'd begun demanding she go on another mission to make sure her faculties were in order, which was the last thing she needed. She had mountains of paperwork to do as an ambassador for the Republic and as Skywalker's Foreign Minister. It was only after she pleaded with Obi-Wan to intercede on her behalf that the Council changed its mind.

"Remain alert you must, young Jade," Yoda had grumbled at her, eyes looking slightly glazed. How old was the Jedi Master anyway?

Mara rather thought they were unfair on her, which they always had been. She could use a rest more than work, and she contemplated the prices of ruling the galaxy and ruling it well. It was easy to brush it off to aides and take a nap. But Skywalker and his father never did that, and she didn't intend to either.

Still, she found ample time to squeeze in her friends, and Leia was giving her constant critiques and advice on how was best to behave at important, political functions. She went through major Imperial politicians by rank and by file, making Mara all the more painfully aware of how little she knew of the government she was chained to.

"These people you can afford to be rude to," Leia said, laying out cards in front of her on the table. "And these ones will be affronted if you're not rude at all."

"How do you memorize all these things?" she'd asked, flabbergasted.

Leia shrugged. "Well, you have to. Politics is dog eats dog."

It was, before she was even aware, her last week at home, and she found herself dragging her feet in the worst way, trying to get work done and ultimately just puttering around the Temple with a forlorn look on her face.

Until the vidlink call came in.

"Play time's over." It was Skywalker, looking very harried and tired, and Mara was so desperately angry with his curt and demanding attitude towards her that she had to snap back at him.

"Excuse me?"

"I need you to come home early."

"I _am _home, and there's nothing about that in the contract."

Skywalker was grinding his teeth. "Then I shall ratify it. I'm not playing games. You would be allowed to leave Coruscant early in the same situation."

"If it's not in the treaty then I shouldn't have to-"

"Damn it, Mara Jade, I need you here!" He'd slammed his palms onto the table, apparently, because her end of the vidlink shook slightly, the image wavering so that it was hard to see him. "I mean…" he tried again, trying to regain the composure he'd never lost so badly with her before. "Please…" he begged, something compelling in his eyes.

That was a better reason to leave early.

"I'm on my way," she sighed, shutting off the link before he could thank her. What could have possibly happened to make the ever so cool and collected Imperial Prince that snappish?

………………………………………………………………………………………

Mara had left. Life on Alderaan was resuming its boring, mournful pace as it awaited the return of its latest hero in a fable-like manner. Obi-Wan was subdued and Amidala worried over why she had to go so suddenly. And she might have been pondering this – were it not for the fact that she was oh so covertly watching her daughter behaving foolishly.

Leia was sitting by the fountain in the Temple, having just returned from the Library and meeting Han Solo on her way out. An argument had ensued, and she now had her back to him, dipping her hand delicately in the water while he reluctantly begged her to turn around, look at him, and forgive him.

"What are the lovers arguing about now?" Padmè jumped slightly as Kenobi approached from behind, smiling at the scene.

"Sh," the woman instructed, casting a furtive glance at her child. "Bail is oblivious enough to be unaware that his daughter's engaged to a scoundrel."

"Ah," the Jedi replied, leaning his back against the wall and continuing to observe the scene. "They're very silly."

"Aren't we all when in love?"

"Don't ask me, I never made it a habit to observe the subject if I could." He cast a look at Padmè and finally decided, "I never really saw you and Anakin like that."

"We made sure you didn't," she sighed, wishing to change the topic.

"And not you and Bail either."

Now she rounded on him, a little desperate. "But that was so much different!"

He threw his hands up defensively. "I know that, you don't need to explain."

"I know, but every time we approach the subject I feel like I have to."

He sighed a little, shook his head. "I know the details. Breha was dead, Anakin was gone. You had a child that needed to be fathered by someone since it couldn't be Anakin's. You were old friends and allies, and so Bail was willing to step in and….well, anyway, Leia's _his _now, whatever she was before."

"You make it sound too official," Padmè sighed, leaning up against the wall with him. "Marriages shouldn't be official, that's why I pity Mara so much."

"Don't pity Mara, she doesn't need it. She can stand on her own two feet."

"I know that Bail and I don't…love each other the way we did our first spouses but…" She looked up at Obi-Wan with her large, brown eyes that could be seen in Leia as well. "He is my dearest friend in the whole world, and that is as it should be. And I do care for him, very much in fact."

Obi-Wan smiled, patted her cheek. "I know that, so does he. But," he said more dryly, casting a glance back at the fountain where the lover's quarrel had gone up in pitch, "I don't think you'll have to worry about Leia and official marriages."

Padmè looked at them again, watched her daughter storm away as Solo reluctantly followed. "Bail will kill poor Han as soon as he finds out. Leia is still his daughter."

………………………………………………………………………………………

"He's in the infirmary, the medical droids can't work until some more chemicals arrive. But…"

"But?" Mara chewed on a piece of her hair, one hip struck out as she tapped her boot against the polished floor, the reflection swinging back of her leg to the knee. The aide looked too thoroughly harried.

"I…I know my Lord sent for you as soon as you were to arrive, but I don't think he'd appreciate you seeing him…like that."

The hair fell from Mara's lips. She stood up straighter. "What's happened."

"I-"

"Out of my way," she demanded, brushing past the aide. "Now I have to see him."

She could feel the coolness in the Force as she approached the infirmary door, and less than a meter from it, she froze. The feeling that radiated beyond it was terrifying. She gulped and shivered as though ice was passing over her skin, and she pushed the button for the doors to slide open – which they did.

The feeling got stronger, like a rush of icy wind, and she was nearly knocked off her feet by the force of it, blinking as she struggled into the dimly lit room. She saw a shadow leaning over a table in front or her, a form too human to be born beneath the drop cloth.

And she knew what had happened.

She paused again. "Luke?"

No response accept a slight shudder running through the other's body. He didn't speak.

"I…"

"It isn't fair," he whimpered, his legs beginning to shake. Proving he was more than just a phantom was enough for Mara to gain courage and walk to his side. She only glanced at the corpse on the table, droids waiting to sterilize it and prepare it for burial. She stared at her husband's face in profile.

It was a shocking thing. The man who put such a focus on appearances had let his own go, and go rapidly. There was stubble on his face, heavy bags beneath his eyes. He hadn't washed, he hadn't eaten, he hadn't slept. His shirt was starting to hang off his body, the weight loss apparent; he frightened Mara.

"He…" the man started again, trembling more fiercely. "Do you know why he did it?"

Mara gulped. "Did what?"

"Killed Palpatine. Everyone always thought he did, but they worked so hard to squash that rumor. It was true, though. Do you know why he did it?"

She shook her head, putting a hand over his and finding the skin clammy and pale. "Why?"

"He was…._insane_," he breathed lightly, blue eyes very pale. "He wanted to start construction on this…this…this _monster _of a project, something awful and fierce called the Death Star. It was a space station, carefully drawn up plans, math done perfectly. We're talking about…mass genocide. Something that could wipe out entire planets. Something to beat the Confederacy." And he looked at her for the first time since she'd arrived on planet, and his stare was haunting. She almost began to trembling. "It was madness. He was going to do it, no matter the cost. So, he…well, he…" His arms gave way beneath him as he leaned over the table, as though that had been holding him up and not his legs. He collapsed so that his chest barely rose above the table top, finding the cold surface unbearable to the touch. "I was only…five years old, at the time, so I didn't…actually see…"

Mara very carefully slid one hand under and arm and onto his chest, the other over his back, and physically pulled him back up, walking with him to the chair and sitting down again. As soon as the Imperial Prince realized he was being taken away from the body of his father, he tried to rise again, but Mara pushed him back down.

"You need to rest now," she said softly, ordering up a droid to arrange a health check for the Prince.

"Of course it was to be expected," he cried a little. "I mean, after all, he was forty eight…but is forty eight so old?" He buried his face in his hands, the tears squeezing through the gaps in his fingers, and Mara leaned down, brushing his hair and trying to comfort him. "I don't understand…it isn't fair…It was so quick, really, he just wasted away before me. Like a shadow. He was a shadow. He…"

"He isn't dead."

"He is dead. I don't know what you're expecting."

"He is a part of the Force." Skywalker – the _only _Skywalker – seemed to consider this for a moment, ponderously. It was painful thinking, none the less. How horrible, to lose a father. How truly awful.

"A part of the Force…" he murmured back, and Mara dropped onto one knee, partially for comfort's sake.

"You have to rest up. There are things to be done, things _you _must do."

"But the body-"

"Is a body. It shall be taken care of. It is _not _your father, not the part that counted."

He sighed over that, muscles slowly relaxing as a med-droid brought a vitamin drink to him. "No, of course not." They sat silently like that for a long moment watching the droids lift the prone corpse onto a stretcher so it could be taken to a different room. A hardness rested in Luke's eyes now and he stood, tightly gripping the arm of the chair. "I will not be like this," he growled to himself. "I won't. He wouldn't like it." He glanced at her. "I love my father, even if he is dead." She nodded a little, still on her knee. "I love him. But I have to be an emperor now."

"You _are _an emperor."

"No," he sighed. "No, I don't think so. But I will be. Watch. It will surprise you."

"No, I don't think it will." She took his hand and kissed it. "Hail, Imperator."

………………………………………………………………………………………

_Everything had gone wrong, which was libel to happen, of course. Everything that could go wrong, would go wrong._

_"He wasn't supposed to have Luke with him!" Obi-Wan hissed into his comm link. Static and panicking followed on the other end._

_"I know what he wasn't _supposed _to have," the operator hissed. "But he does."_

_It was Palpatine's funeral – a beautiful, showy affair, a processional, with Vader giving out the appropriate speeches of combining his mourning with his firm desire to love and lead his people. All the political nonsense that would be used whenever he got killed. Obi-Wan was on Coruscant to get Luke back, that little five year old cherubim. That little thing that was reported to already worship his father._

_Master Yoda was rather firm that getting him back physically was now rendered obsolete. He was tainted goods._

_Obi-Wan, of course, refused to believe that, he'd refused forever such ideas. It had cost him dearly, but Jedi needed idealism, or what could they live up to? What could they live for?_

_He was supposed to have two hours because the boy was too young to attend such a grand and public funeral procession, it would have been difficult for him. But no. No, he was standing right next to Vader even at the podium as he spoke, holding his hand and looking like an idol in black. The political effect was obvious and immediate; what had Palpatine been to them? He was a wrinkly, cold man who hadn't exactly improved things in the five years he'd ruled. And here was this twenty-seven year old, this young, single father with power and promise, and a sweet little boy whom he could be seen loving and hugging quite frequently. There were plenty of pictures of it all over the holo stats. It sickened Obi-Wan._

_"He wasn't supposed to-"_

_"So _what _are you going to do about it?"_

_If he managed to grab Luke at all…there was virtually no way he'd get off the planet. At least not alive._

_"I-"_

_There was a powerful little scream, a blast of emotion and anger and fear through the Force, and Vader actually paused in his speech, highly confused, head turning in the direction it had come from. Luke's little head pivoted, too. The newly crowned emperor signaled up some Storm Troopers to go investigate before explaining it away and continuing on with his with political eulogy._

_"Obi-Wan," the operator reminded. "You're here for the Imperial Prince."_

_"That was a cry for help."_

_"You're here for-"_

_"I could go after Luke, and believe me , I want to more than life – and accomplish nothing. Or I could go after whoever that was and maybe _do_ something."_

_"…You're here…for the Prince…" was the halting reminder. A heavy pause._

_"Are you going to tell me what to do?"_

_Another pause. "Well, _you're _the Jedi, I can hardly tell you anything." Obi-Wan looked long and hard at the prize he was after, and made his decision._

_He turned around to see if he could beat the Storm Troopers to wherever that alert had come from. _


	10. Chapter 10

**High Flying, Adored**

**Chapter Ten**

Disclaimer: See chapter nine.

Author's Note: OMG, I'm updating! Also, as a note, guys, while I do love all your support, one word isn't all that helpful. I'd rather hear something you didn't like about it than one word of what you did. Constructive criticism is okay, I promise.

Healing Hands: I'm so sorry it took so long :(

wAcKaMoLe911: It is supposed to be a bit of a confusing fic, so I hope that's not throwing you off too bad.

Encarna: All cliffhangers are nasty.

ILDV: Thanks

yojorocks: Thank you, that's always the trick, to bring out the humanity.

Willow-Bee the Cat: Thank you

PadFootCc: Well, I don't know how humanly possible it was, but I updated )

JadeTakashi: Thank you, I'm very glad it's interesting!

………………………………………………………………………………………

_Now it begins, now we start_

_One hand, one heart._

West Side Story

………………………………………………………………………………………

_She was such a little thing! Oh so very little, it shocked him; that anything that small could send such a _powerful_ cry through the Force was amazing._

_He was a well trained Jedi, and did not hesitate to act at the even more shocking sight of what was happening to that little girl._

_The ugly, brute of an alien had her pinned against the wall as she struggled and screamed and cursed the way little girls ought not to do, and a weaker man might have afterwards trembled and vomited at the thought of what the creature had wanted from the little thing._

_But he had acted, and the thing had fled minus an arm (he would just as soon made it the gentiles he would have used against that little girl) and been about to scoop up the child and make sure she remained uninjured, but she'd pressed herself against the ally wall like a tiger, hissing and ready to defend herself._

_Such a scrappy little thing! Saved from utter abuse and yet she did not trust her rescuer. She might have been five, and if so, was a very, very small five. Anakin had been a small nine, he was used to such sights. Luke had not been._

_"It's alright," he promised, radiating soothing feelings through the Force and merely serving to confuse the child. "I'm not here to hurt you."_

_"Go away," she growled, knowing she could not really tangle against the man who had beat someone so much bigger than her. So her spat entreaty was all she had. "Go away!"_

_"What's your name?"_

_"Go away!"_

_"That's not much of a name." She swore again – this thing was not a lady – and he even more gently asked, "How old are you?"_

_"I'm seven," she responded, seeing no harm in that, but he did not believe her for a second._

_"You are not seven. When were you born." She listed the date that she obviously had difficulty remembering and he replied, "Your math's wrong, you're five."_

_"I'm seven," she reasserted. "When you're seven you can get a job carrying tools for repairmen. I'm seven."_

_He paused, hearing those looming Storm Troopers, and shielded their presence nervously. "Never mind," he hissed. "We'll discuss it later." He looked at the vibrant, red little creature, considered her power, considered how he'd given up Luke to save her. "Are you hungry?" he asked, knowing no other way to make her trust him._

_Her eyes lit up then, and it appeared she _was _hungry, too hungry to refuse the generosity. He gently beckoned to her and she reluctantly came to him. The dirty, thin, red little child. "I'm Mara," she said matter-of-factly. _

_"Pleased to meet you, Mara."_

………………………………………………………………………………………

"Hail, Imperator." He said it with a near mocking quality to his voice. Luke's eyes narrowed. "The Ralcorp Daily News Service has a few questions for you."

Sovereign Emperor Luke Skywalker slowly sank into _his _throne, not his father's and not Palpatine's. The reporter before him was of the humanoid type and as slick as grease. Everything about him was, to the business suit he wore that merely made him look like a rich sleaze, to the thick, slimy accent that whispered over all his words. Ralcorp was the biggest news service on Coruscant, if not the Empire itself, and it had made or broken many a politician through its news services – its often distorted news services. It could push and boss more people around than nearly any other private company, excluding Black Sun. And now it was making the mistake of thinking it could push the emperor.

The reigning Imperator was legally emperor upon his father's death. However, he could not be crowned until after his father's ceremony, and when things were thin and ties hard to come by, _that _was the time as a leech to strike.

"Questions?" The Emperor had gotten thinner, more haggard looking, and his general staff was grateful for the now Empress' return; without her controlling, healthful influence, it was doubtful whether their new lord and master wouldn't have wasted away even more. The reporter nodded at the affirmation. "Then why," he asked, leaning indolently back and looking contemptuously at that which stood before him, "wasn't Ralcorp Daily News Service at the press conference I gave?"

"We're a busy company. Things to do."

"And I'm a busy man. You are excused, sir-"

"Now just hold your horses!" Luke's temper flared. The alien shifted his stance. "This'll only take a minute."

"Excuse me?"

"We want the full back story on your father and his death. We want to know if there's substance behind the rumors he was once the Jedi Anakin Skywalker. There's scandal waiting behind this, Emperor Skywalker."

"Scandal?" he growled, standing again and looming ominously about the man. "I may not be in the habit of Force choking people the way my father was, but I could certainly make an exception for you. You may leave."

"You haven't answered our questions." The four, dark blue eyes of the alien peered at the master of the universe from their corners. "You'd hate to have us say something nasty when your reign has just started, wouldn't you?"

Luke's temper snapped, and he physically picked up the greasy reporter. "Do you think I'm just anyone?" he snarled, dragging him to his chamber doors. "Get out," he growled. "Get out before I beat you out! What I said before applies to everyone, no exceptions. We live in an equal society." If the reporter had wanted to stay, the Imperial Guards stepping up advised him otherwise, and he slunk out as Mara walked in.

"What on earth was that?" she asked, watching the grumbling man go, feeling the anger roll off her husband. Luke had declared all holonet services closed from now until after his father's funeral, and while most had muttered quietly and accepted it, Ralcorp and the big dogs had not. It was another thing to add to the emperor's full plate as he struggled to finish his father's ceremony plans.

"Look," she sighed, red locks falling past her shoulders as she shook her head, "I wanted to ask you something."

"What?" he snapped, and he could feel her ire raise and regretted having done that. "I'm sorry," he said quickly and softly as she glared at the marble on the floor. "I am, you've been patient with me. No one else would have been as patient." He walked back to his throne, wearily collapsing into it, and she followed him there. "What was it you wanted to ask?"

Now Mara was hesitant, trying to play each precious card carefully. "I received a request from Alderaan…."

Luke raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"Senator Amidala would like to go to your father's funeral."

"Absolutely not." Mara stood stunned for a minute as he got up again and brushed past her, going towards his more comfortable private office. She shook off her surprise and tried again.

"What?"

"There's no way. I won't have her there."

"You don't have to be invited to go to a funeral."

"You do when you're a foreign diplomat on enemy soil."

"But the war's over!" Luke did not pause as he unlocked the door and stepped in, Mara close on his heels. "We're not enemies now, you can't do that!"

"I most certainly can."

"Listen to me," she demanded, and he finally stopped, bending over his desk, breath ragged. "Look at it politically at the very least, what better way to display your new position on the Confederacy?"

"I married you, that's display enough for me."

"For Force's sake, she's like a mother to me!" Mara was finally pleading. "How could you expect me to tell her no after she came to me like that with tears stuck in her eyes? Please, Luke, for God's sake, please, it's the only thing I've ever really asked of you."

They stood there a moment, dead silent, until the emperor wearily pulled himself into his chair, eyes closed in that sunken face. Mara could not help but pity him. "Can you comprehend," he wheezed, "for a single moment what having her there would do to me?" He finally opened his eyes again, and they were a cold, ice cold blue. Mara stood firm, though, she had no other choice.

"You can handle it," she pledged. "I know you can, you're strong."

"Not that strong."

"Then how will you ever survive being emperor when you cannot face your own mother?"

He halfway closed his eyes, smiling lightly at her with a little snort. "No one survives being emperor. You go at it for as long as you can and you die, but nobody ever survives it. It is a blaster shot to the heart."

"My Lord," she sighed, hands clutched, "for the sake of your obedient wife – dodge this one shot."

He laughed at that, actually laughed, the first time in weeks he had laughed, and Mara took heart. "Well," he sighed. "What can I say? I suppose I'll have to greet her, won't I?"

"It would be appropriate."

"Appropriate," he sneered. "What an awful word. Sons should not greet mothers with propriety, that is not the way of nature." He sighed and flicked through datapads absentmindedly. "Perhaps, then, that renders such governments as ours as unnatural…"

"You need to sleep," she reminded, noticing how his mind was wandering, and he dropped the pad, reluctantly agreeing.

"I do, don't I? I look like a mess. Well, don't worry, tomorrow things will improve."

"Why tomorrow?" she asked, thinking maybe she should help him up as he struggled out of his chair, yet doing nothing.

"Because I said so," was the careless response. "Because I will not go before my people an empty shell." He yawned a little, balanced on his feet again. "I'm going to lay down for a bit. Could you do me a favor? Arrange with my secretary to have the Coruscant Daily Chronicle brought in as soon as I'm awake."

"The holonet report?"

"No, no, the company. A reporter or an editor or something."

"What? Why, they're so small!"

"Precisely," he sighed again. "No more questions for the present. I am off to bed." He glanced at her, noticed she was tired as well. "You might consider the same."

Mara just shook her head, not finding it worth the effort to argue with him.

…

The stretch speeder was moving slowly through the Coruscant streets – traffic was heavy today, and it wasn't hard to guess why. Even though she hadn't seen what was once a home to her in years, Padmè Amidala Skywalker Organa did not have her face pressed against the window. Probably she wouldn't have liked what she'd see. Dressed in irreproachable black, she sat across from her husband of twenty five years – which was far more than she'd ever had with Anakin – and took courage in his smiles.

"You're nervous," he said as she unabashedly plucked at the hem of her dark garment. "There's nothing to be worried about, he's not putting you up on the stage, you'll be safely tucked in the back-"

"Just like he said, I know." It seemed horrible to her that neither of them could pronounce her own child's name. But then, Luke hadn't been her child in years, and she could not expect to show up with a favor to ask and pull him back into her arms again. That was an embrace she would never know. There had been the vaguest of hopes while he was safe on Tatooine, that she would hold him as her child once more. But five years went by and then he was gone, and that breath of hope had gone, too. Anakin had wrecked a bloody vengeance for being denied his child, and Padmè felt the effects acutely.

And Luke did not seem to miss her in her absence.

She and Bail loved each other in their own sort of way. She'd never been romantic. As a girl, she had not expected a knight in shinning armor to find her, and it had been surprising when he had. But, considering how burned they'd both been by marrying for love, that second option of marrying for stability had become utterly appealing.

Once or twice they'd spoken to each other over it. "Did we make a mistake?" she'd whisper. "I appreciate everything you've done for Leia, Bail, I really do, but was this something we shouldn't have done?"

"Well," he'd sighed, unsure what to say, "the path to hell is lined with good intentions, Vader knows that. We cannot change it, we had best work through it."

But by and large they were happy together, if not as a man and wife, then as two very good, very old friends who had needed someone to fall back on. Their first choice denied them, they picked the next best thing, and nobody could say they didn't try.

But she could love Bail for loving Leia. He didn't disapprove of her due to her paternal heritage. He loved her all the more for her blessing in the choice of mother. He doted on her like the child he and Breha had never had, and loving the girl made them love each other more.

Bail would never be Anakin. But he could be a port in the storm, which was why he'd agreed to come with her to her ex-husband's funeral, knowing it was him she loved, not that Alderaanian senator. He accepted the competition and did not get jealous.

Leia had not wanted to come. "Why should I go?" she scoffed at her mother's offer. "The only relation of mine there will be the emperor, and God knows I have no desire to see him. It would be nice to see Mara, but she'll be too busy to talk much with me. No, thank you, I'll stay here."

It had nearly reduced Padmè to tears to know her daughter thought nothing of the man she did not know was her father, and even less of the ruler who was truly her brother.

_Someday, maybe_, she whispered to herself, _you will have a real family, Leia_.

Until then, Bail more than made up for it.

The speeder came to a slightly jerking stop and the doors opened. It surprised her just a little to find her son waiting for her right there, head to foot in black, so very rigid, so very formal. He helped her out of her seat and down the steps, bowing over her hand and grudgingly whispering, "Mother." He'd as soon call her Senator Amidala, but Mara had pleaded with him.

"She'd appreciate it like you wouldn't believe."

"Why?" was his response. "She's never been a mother to me. I've never had a mother."

"Pretend. Just for one moment, please pretend."

And he pretended, but the false pretext of it did not escape Padmè. She saw that coldness in his eyes, his father's very fine blue eyes. He was everything about his father, so much so she thought she'd nearly stumbled into Anakin again.

His eyes had only gotten cold in those last days before he disappeared completely, sucked into Palpatine's void, and not to return. But Luke's eyes held that same cold hurt. He took her arm and led her to the section he'd set aside for she and Bail, pressed her hand and requested leave to go as thousands upon thousands poured into the stadium he'd reserved for the ceremony.

Bail sat next to her expectantly, eyes lit up. "Well?" he asked. "Was it everything you expected?"

"He looks at me like he hates me," she sighed, and his shoulders slumped.

"I'm sorry, Padmè."

"Don't be, I expected nothing less than for him to hate me. I could hate me for the mistakes I made regarding him. Well," she sighed, tearing her eyes off the living figure of her love, looking down at her husband's hands as they held her own in comfort. "I promise you, I am not hurt by it. Now I can rest assured – I've seen him and I know he cares nothing for me and I do not need to feel obligated! What a relief this has been, I shall have to thank Mara for the part she played."

"You needn't act the senator with me."

"Please, Bail, I don't know what other mask to wear."

A hush fell over the crowd; the ceremony was commencing…


	11. Chapter 11

**High Flying, Adored**

**Chapter Eleven**

Disclaimer: Lyrics used are copyright their lyricists, literary references I do not apologize for (I'm in AP English, that's what they teach you to do). The characters, however, are not mine.

ILDV: Thanks.

Healing Hands: Well, maybe, who knows?

wAcKaMoLe911: Thank you! Hopefully it's emotional enough, I kind of struggled with it.

RozzandMaya: Good questions. Vader died of natural causes, just a really bad, non-specified disease we can attribute to a constant weakness after killing Palpatine – took a lot out of him. As to Luke and Padmè, she hasn't been a part of his life since he was an infant, and it's hard to let someone just step into the void of mother, even for a couple of hours. He's just sensitive.

kokuhaku: Thank you very much!

TnTornado: Well, that's what you're waiting to find out, isn't it? ;p

Amazon101: The "accept," one I caught on the word document recently before your review and changed. But thank you for catching those errors, sometimes they slip by me!

Encarna: I think you deserve a prize for seeing the future. But you'll have to wait and see.

Astaire: Am I heading in an LM direction? It's an interesting topic to ponder.

Madame Naberrie: No apology necessary, since I took forever to update. I'm just glad you read it, since you're such a loyal reader and give such nice reviews!

………………………………………………………………………………………

_High flying, adored_

_What happens now, where do you go from here?_

_For someone on top of the world_

_The view's not exactly clear_

_A shame you did it all at twenty six_

_There are no mysteries now_

_Nothing can thrill you_

_No one fulfill you._

- Evita

………………………………………………………………………………………

Luke was standing on the stage, behind the podium, looking so serious, so sad. The stadium hummed with whispers and the electric quality of the air was unmistakable. Behind him was a giant holovid projector, which Mara was standing by since she had no real place on the stage but had been asked to be there anyway.

"You stand there," Luke had explained before hand, making sure he was utterly immaculate – he'd had enough of his health return to look decent again – "Because then you represent that the Republic Confederacy has a real hand in Imperial society; even in the death of the emperor."

"Couldn't I just stand there," she'd sighed, "as your wife, being supportive?"

He hadn't had the time to answer that. Mara was tired of being symbolic.

And her husband was tired of being strong and perfect, but he maintained that façade, so carefully built, as he stood on the podium, the eyes of all the galaxy upon him. And that's why Mara really was there, because he was tired of being strong. She was there for if needed.

Hopefully not needed. The new emperor's entire reign might rest upon how well he could perform his father's funeral.

_What a sham_, Mara thought. _Using a relative's death for personal protection._

Yet she couldn't make herself believe that. The remorse Luke showed was true remorse, and she hurt for him a little. They'd been married nearly six standard months. How things could change in six standard months.

He cleared his throat and a hush fell upon the entire crowd, cameras and droids and humans and aliens all focused upon his very breath. He need not speak a word to draw in silence, what power! What utter prestige! What calm in the face of all that multitude, and the emperor was in his prime.

"What words," he began, voice low as he looked down, unable to look up, "what words would you have me use to acclaim my father?" No one spoke. "Come now, it is a question put to my people – I am here to serve them, and as they are here to honor my father, let me know how I might do it best. What honors could be given to such a man? What words, oh my people? Well. It is done. He is gone, and I am here, and I cannot incarnate him for you. It would be a false pretense to say I merely stepped into his shoes and fill the position he once did. I do not believe in Fate like that, my reign and my destiny is my own. Not his. Force help us all when we become the people before us and not our own." His hands ran along the edge of the microphone stand for a moment, and everything was quiet…so very quiet, and he coughed again. Mara would have believed it if someone told her he was fighting off his own feelings.

"As you all know, I had the holonet service shut off for the last week. I thought it good preparation for what I would show you now." Lights dimmed across the compound, and the holovid lit up to a blaze of glory, with the title display of, "Coruscant Daily Chronicle," emblazoned there. What followed was a short autobiography of their former emperor – and if details were sometimes glossed over and some things better glorified, who could blame the man for being careful, for it was the most honest representation of their leader ever given. The emperor said not a word as this continued, he sat back next to his wife, who did not so much as look at him, and watched the proceedings, very calm. It explained Amidala, it explained going to the Sith (though this was one of those glorified proceedings). His achievements, his strength as a father were highlighted, and Mara could hear the sound of weeping, and wondered if the Senator Amidala was weeping as well at being finally recognized by an empire as being Vader's husband, being Luke's mother.

And that little Coruscant Daily Chronicle had put together _that_! Luke _must _have helped finance a great deal of it, for it was vivid and detailed and so utterly…beautiful. Mara was stunned, not only by the production, but by the empathetic waves she felt rolling off the crowd, coming in surge after surge, and as it ended and her husband returned before the podium, she had to marvel at what must follow after…that.

"I am _not_ my father," he swore before them as he stepped up and they cried. He looked as though he might cry, too. "I am only honoring him, I must ask you to expect nothing of him in me. I don't exactly know what I ask you to expect of me, unproven, untried."

There was that unanimous cry of, "No!" so interesting in impassioned, linked crowds. "No, hail Imperator! He is _our_ emperor, and he is good!"

He smiled a little, waving them down, whispering hush. "Sh, sh, my people, just listen…" Yet onward they cried, "Hail Imperator! Hail Luke Skywalker! Our emperor, our _emperor_!" And it was a full five minutes before they calmed enough again to allow _their _emperor to speak.

"Such enthusiasm," he smiled, giving a short, "ha," more to release breath than to say anything. "I don't understand it. The only thing I've given you is the body of my father. Who loved you…as I love you. Who loved me, well, I am not so hopeful on how much you love me." The cry started up again, and he stopped it before it could really take off. "Enough of this, such momentary passions must not rule us! My friends, sh, listen!" he instructed again as they slowly calmed down, mulling and seething and hanging on the words - soft words - upon his lips. "My people…I have done nothing to earn either your loyalty nor your affections, but I ask only your patience and I shall deliver to you the entirety of my heart. What is an emperor who does not embody and become his people? What good is it to rule if one rules apart? I swear to you, here and now, that I am _your _emperor, a part of you. I shall strive with all that I have to aid you, to better you, to nurture and care for you and may I be struck down if I fail! Upon the solemnity of my father's grave do I make this vow to be your protector and provider, a father to my children, a brother to my people. I…I-"

But the emotion of the moment overwhelmed him, and he choked on threatening tears. He stopped, trying to regain himself, leaning so far over the podium as though he were reaching to touch the masses. They, in turn, rose up like one great wave to greet and engulf him, like a child going to its parents. Their arms mutually stretched, in the reality of the moment, towards each other. Mara was hiding her face, for she was crying. In the back, Padmè Amidala was crying, for she was overwhelmed that her own child could be so moving, so very real. She knew each political ploy, and she knew Luke hadn't all the right parts to be so truly conniving as to manipulate such an emotional response. It had come from the bottom of each heart of the masses, and the bottom of his own.

"I…" he tried again, slowly pulling his arms back as the people still surged toward him, and the two women of his life present wanted to surge as well. "That," he finally managed, coughing and regaining his control, "is what I would give and promise to my people. Nothing less. May the Force deliver me victorious in this, or may my name be expunged from history. For nothing else is worth pursuing."

………………………………………………………………………………………

_"What business of yours is it how I came by her, or how I brought her to the Temple to train, or how I and the Jedi raise her? I don't think it so inappropriate to ask!"_

_"It is inappropriate to pitch a fit."_

_"She isn't yours. Damn it all, maybe Luke was, but Mara isn't, I rescued her-"_

_"So she belongs to you?"_

_How dare the Senator Amidala be so calm and calculated as the Jedi stood on the verge of ranting and raving. Mara wasn't saying much of anything, still so wary of the world as she munched a treat the woman had given her._

_"No," he finally sighed, forcing himself to exorcise the tension from his shoulders and posture. "I didn't say that."_

_"I'm stealing nothing that wasn't already taken. If I want to have communal interest in raising the girl, what's the harm? I've been raising Leia already, who's the-" She stopped. "_Nearly _the same age."_

_"Leia is four."_

_"Leia is four." This point was driven home and the woman continued. "You have three Jedi in the Temple. It is lonely, it is cold, it is too sterile for such a child from such conditions on such a planet as Coruscant to adapt to so easily."_

_"I'm her Master, that's what I'm there for."_

_"On the contrary. You would teach her separation of emotion, to never become attached."_

_"Naturally, it is the Jedi way. It worked for centuries."_

_"Yet failed at the critical moment." He simply glared and ground his teeth. "The Jedi Order was good. But now it must be made better to fit a new world, for it cannot hold so stuffily to tradition. It will suffocate on old air and die. Therefore, give me the child to mother and you shall have better than Jedi."_

_"Better than Jedi?" he scoffed. "What would you make that is better than Jedi."_

_"The natural thing," she said, par course and easy. "People."_

………………………………………………………………………………………

Mara found him tucked into the corner of a hall while the rest of the population was partaking of the free food and drink provided at the service.

"Sir!" his treasurer had protested. "It will cost a fortune!"

"And what do I have fortunes for," he'd replied, "but to spend them?"

Mara had not been proud of him then, it was the decent thing to do.

Luke had his head in his hands and was breathing deeply, sitting on the floor as though he weren't the sovereign emperor. His mother had left, escorted to the speeder by her son and droves who praised her for mothering him – when she'd expected boos as a traitor.

"Thank you," she'd told him as she prepared to leave. "It was a beautiful service and I was glad to be there."

"I hope you have a safe flight back and your stay was a comfortable one." He'd looked hurt and could not make eye contact with her, but she'd left after that, deeply touched and much happier.

Mara had not been proud of him then, it was the decent thing to do.

But his speech…

That he could craft such language. Such open, honest language that expressed real remorse, true sympathies, exact emotions and bonds. Luke was articulate and he was clever, but Mara had never appreciated his diplomatic knack his father had praised him for until that moment. He had used Vader's funeral as a jumping off point to his own reign, but how could she fault him when that's exactly what the doting, loving, worshiping father would have wanted for his devoted son.

"It was a beautiful service," she said softly as she came upon him, all alone, and he shuddered and stiffened, and was only able to look at the hem of her black dress. "I think you made the holonet reporters cry."

"Oh," was all he could say, looking down the dark hallway and thinking.

"Your father would have loved it."

"I know that."

How nearly she said, "Oh, Luke, I'm so proud of you!" But she'd been taught at an early age to keep her emotions in check, and she didn't want to seem impetuous or for him to take that the wrong way. How awkward things might be then, even as he sat on the tile and shuddered.

But she was very proud of him.

"And thank you for allowing Senator Padmè Amidala to come."

"Sure."

"After all," she sighed, rubbing the outside of her arm. "She is your mother. She was his wife. Was it really so awful having her here?"

"Yes," he finally growled, standing up and staring her down. Mara just sighed, disappointed at the darkness that congregated around him with his grief. Such promise of power and justice was wasted on Skywalker, she reminded herself. "Yes. It was awful, it was horrid, I hated every minute of it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I want to be alone." He stormed down the hall and Mara just sighed, shaking her head.

That stubborn jerk.

She was so proud of him.


	12. Chapter 12

**High Flying, Adored**

**Chapter Twelve**

Disclaimer: See chapter eleven.

Author's Note: Since a lot of people commented on Luke's eulogy, I think I'll just say everything on it here; I guiltily admit it did not take hours, and am blushed and flattered that you all think so highly of it. I personally was worried that it did not measure up to my original conception of it and you would all think it thin and contrite. That it so impressed you all is a marvelous compliment, and I thank you all very, very much!

ILDV: Thank you very much!

SithKnight-Galen: This was an excellent review, I'm glad to know _exactly _what you liked about the fic! Thanks so much. As to Obi-Wan and Mara, it would be a major shock to me, too, but I might have to try that out sometime.

Necroblade: Thanks very much, Creative Writing's my major next year.

Healing Hands: Glad it could touch you!

Encarna: The Luke/Padmè relationship (or rather, lack thereof) is one of my favorite bits.

Madame Naberrie: I do so love Evita. I'm really glad you liked the speech so much, and a lot of people do seem attracted to Luke's charisma, huh?

Barranca: Luke's an impressive figure. No, the treaty between the Confederacy and the Empire was mostly Luke's idea, the marriage part was just sort of thrown out there and Vader supported the idea if it's what Luke wanted.

………………………………………………………………………………………

_And you never know_

_Till you reach the top_

_If it was worth the uphill climb_

- Avenue Q

………………………………………………………………………………………

_"You can't be serious."_

_"It'll be good socialization time for Mara."_

_"Socialization is a term used on puppies to keep them from biting. Using it on Mara is inappropriate and absurd."_

_"I think you're the one who's being absurd."_

_"No. There's no way, Master Yoda would pitch a fit."_

_"Like you're doing right now?"_

_The girl was sitting on the floor, back against the wall, which was her preferred seating arrangement. After six months, her master had yet to entirely understand her; the child was mistrustful of things that were soft, or warm, or comfortable, though she was obviously drawn straight to them – naturally so, what human didn't prefer comfort to cold? But little Mara Jade was street savvy, and those offering comfort usually offered it at a price._

_Not that her level of trust in her Jedi master hadn't improved tremendously. In the beginning, she wouldn't speak to him for whole days at a time, and she _never _took his hand the way other little girls did around Alderaan._

_Most notably girls like little Leia Organa, who was declared the universal cherub. Her father was currently serving as president of the Republic Confederacy, and the well behaved little four year old was brought to every social function. She seemed to thrive on them, really, and no one – however slimy a politician – could resist her charms as she batted her big, brown eyes with thick lashes and smiled and displayed her rosy cheeks._

_"I see all of Amidala in her," someone – _anyone_ – would sigh, "but not Organa! Ah, well, guess she's just Nubian to her core."_

_Of course, nobody could see anything of anyone in Mara Jade, who was older, ought to have had better manners and ought to have been more genteel. She had thick, unruly locks of curly red hair that could take ages for her master to comb through – if he was ever allowed near her, for Mara had a particular hatred of having her hair brushed through (it was so tangled that it hurt). She also hated skirts, bubble baths, most vegetables and all things strange and different. She was a cross, foul tempered child, and the Jedi Temple cursed the day Obi-Wan had been pigheaded enough to bring her back to them instead of the now thoroughly brainwashed Imperial Prince._

_But _Leia_ loved having her hair brushed and done up and _Leia _could wear anything and look angelic and _Leia_ probably ate what she was told at the table._

_But oddly enough, it was _Leia _who was inviting Mara to her fifth birthday party._

_Not Padmè Amidala, no, the child had specifically requested the Jedi's youngest recruit herself._

_The woman leaned over the child on the floor, smiling and affable and her master scowled down his disproval of such frivolous events; Mara could see it in his frosty, blue eyes. As kind as he was, Mara was still just the slightest bit afraid of him, though the only person she trusted nearly so well was Senator Amidala Skywalker Organa herself. _

_"What do you think, Mara," she smiled down at her with eyes that were also her daughter's. "Wouldn't you like to play with the other children?"_

_"I…" Mara stammered. The offer to be with children her own age was a tempting one, along with the promised goodies available, but Mara preferred solitude to anything else in the world, and she hated to displease her master._

_He, however, was disposed to be charitable, and took the girl's hand – she let him have it nowadays – and promised, "We'll get back to you on it," and lead her safely away from making a decision._

………………………………………………………………………………………

To the great surprise of economists everywhere, the Ralcorp Daily News Service was declaring bankruptcy. Following the emperor's triumph with his father's funeral and his support of the Coruscant Daily Chronicle, jealous and still wounded Ralcorp had tried to fire off an exposé on the Imperator's suppression of his own Freedom of Speech laws. It was so malicious a program, so twisted a report, and so _ill timed_ a measure that the adoring citizens of the Empire universally turned on the enterprise, their shares plummeted, and Ralcorp Daily News Service – the _biggest _holonet service in the Empire – nearly went under.

But only nearly, as its shares were bought up and the company saved, if not so prosperous as before, by Prince Xizor, the Falleen.

"Why would he do that?" Mara asked Luke once her husband was feeling better again. In the week after the funeral he'd been cold and unapproachable, but now with the chaos mostly behind him, he was perfectly content to sit and chat with the empress. Currently, they were doing just that in the throne room, idly talking while different interest groups made their case in the few short hours the emperor could spare to be seen directly. "What would Xizor have to gain by bolstering Ralcorp? The Chronicle's moved up to the biggest news service, their shares have gone through the roof! What does Prince Xizor stand to profit?"

"Absolutely nothing," Luke purred, casually chewing on a hangnail on his finger.

"Then why do it?"

"Because he knows now how much bad blood exists between Ralcorp and the Skywalker Administration. They're not even allowed in my press meetings."

"So he benefits by…"

"Irritating me," her husband drawled, flashing her a look with his blue eyes.

The Jedi looked at him incredulously for a moment. "I don't believe it," she finally decided. "Who has the time to waste irritating the beloved Imperator?"

"Xizor does. He hates me – don't laugh," he ordered sternly as she did so, a friendly twinkle yet in those blue eyes. "I'm absolutely serious."

"You're absolutely paranoid."

"Fine," he shrugged, leaning back in his throne and looking at the list of committees dying to see him before 0900 when the court was officially closed for the day so His Eminence could work. "You don't have to believe me, but it stands as solid fact that he has hated all things that smack of Skywalker since the beginning of time. He and my father absolutely _loathed_ each other. And a man that rich has the money to waste on irritating me by buying up stocks."

"Luke," she replied, leaning her elbow on the arm of her own chair. "He's the most charming person who ever sets foot inside the Imperial Palace and lauds everything you do."

"Naturally, he'd like to get closer to me. More convenient for shoving in the knife."

"I don't believe you."

"Then don't believe your own husband, that's your business," he smirked at her, flipping through his datapad. "But if he's seemed especially charming to you, remember he's a Falleen – and you're not an unattractive woman."

Mara looked baffled for a minute before snapping her fingers and sitting back. "Pheromones."

"Pheromones," Skywalker confirmed, standing up as his expensive watch – a birthday present from his father, the last one he'd ever receive – ticked the closing of the court. "I have to go and talk to some naval officers who are demanding heavier patrols on the boarders-"

"The Confederacy boarders? You have to include me if it's-"

"I know I have to include you if it's the Confederacy boarders, thank you, I wrote the treaty." She pouted and watched him from her glaring eyes, arms crossed. "And it's the Outer Rim, for your information."

"Well, thank you for that."

"Naturally. Hey," he added, still pawing through the datapad and glancing at his schedule. "I'm free for lunch if you are."

She was surprised by the offer and would have played out hesitating in accepting, but the Emperor clearly didn't have the time to be irritated anymore than Xizor was making him so. "I'll wait for you in my study," she promised. "I have Republic things to take care of anyway."

"Sure. I'll see you then." He'd just turned to walk out when she suddenly stopped him.

"Hey!"

"Yeah?"

She stood and walked to him, looking teasing and Luke mistrusted her. "When you said I wasn't unattractive, were you really trying to say you like me?" She had a smirk on her face which clearly demonstrated that she wasn't fishing for a compliment; she was trying to make the emperor squirm, which was always a very satisfying thing for a Jedi of such a wounded order.

He seemed to consider for a long time before smirking right back. "I dunno, maybe if you did something with your hair…" And here he handled one of the long braids she constantly put it in to keep it out of the way and did not compliment her features. Before the action could be taken as affectionate, however, he tugged upon the braid and took off running so Mara didn't have a chance to hack off his arm with her lightsaber.

………………………………………………………………………………………

"Did you always want to be the emperor? I mean, once you started living with your father?"

Mara's questions no longer probed with the desire to search out and magnify pieces of her husband's interior she did not trust. She asked them out of a pure curiosity which he indulged rather liberally since they no longer tried his patience. She reviewed foreign policy with him in the evenings, so they lounged in his suite over drinks after the bulk of the work was done and enjoyed the company. It was widely reflected throughout the palace staff that it was good for the Imperator not to be alone so soon after his father's death and they appreciated the Jedi girl for making sure he stayed healthy and occupied throughout his mourning period.

Luke was propped up on his side on the large, black leather sofa, his drink on the caff table that separated him from Mara's easy chair. She was lounging in it sideways, too, enjoying the brief question answer period; the girl wasn't the only one to ask questions; Skywalker occasionally took an interest in her life before marriage as well.

"Not really," he shrugged, sitting up a bit more. "I used to want to be a pilot when I was younger." She laughed and he admonished her with, "That's not so funny. I'll bet you didn't always want to be a Jedi."

"For as long as I can remember," she promised but he did not seem to believe her. "I never thought to be anything else."

"That's quite possibly one of the saddest things I've ever heard, Mara Jade," her husband replied, sitting fully up and looking at her. "Did they really brainwash you that much?"

"I wasn't brainwashed." She was occasionally still snappish, and demonstrated the ability now with a look from her hot green eyes. "There just weren't a lot of choices and the Jedi was the only one I really wanted to pursue."

"Never wanted to be a politician or something like that, huh?"

"You mean like your sister?"

"_Half _sister." Mara was finding it great fun to tease both children of Amidala, as either one of them despised being fully linked to the other.

"Have you ever talked to her?" she asked compunctious-ly, leaning back.

"Organa?"

"Your '_half_ sister.'"

"A couple of times, not often."

"Don't you want to?"

"Not really. I've lived my life fine without her."

"What if you ended up benefiting from the acquaintance, though?"

"Now, how would I do that?" he asked her, giving her a look as he enjoyed his drink. "Really, I put it to you; conceivably, how would I do that?"

Mara didn't have an answer for that, and hesitantly sipped at her own drink before switching the topics back. "So, you wanted to be a pilot, huh?"

The Imperator laughed. "God, madly."

"And what did your father say to that?"

"Apparently, he'd wanted the exact same thing as a child."

"Anakin wanted to be a Jedi."

"You can want more than one thing. I know it's hard for you to imagine, having only ever thought to be a Jedi, but when you're young, it's very possible to want a lot of things at once." She glared and looked up at the ceiling, shunning him for mocking her, and he sat back and waited patiently in the silence for a while.

"But the expectations…" she finally muttered, still transfixed by the ceiling. "To be the emperor, I mean – they're very high."

"Very high," Luke agreed, setting his glass back down.

"Studying the right courses-"

"Creating the right alliances-"

"Marrying the right people-"

"Having enough children."

"Are you ever going to do that?" Jade asked, shifting her position in the chair. "I mean, getting married, having the children." He looked at her strangely and she finally comprehended. "Oh, yeah…" She flushed a little guiltily. "Sometimes I forget…"

Skywalker smirked. "Not much of a marriage, is it?"

"I guess not…"

"Still, I'm not sorry about it. Not at all, in case you were thinking-"

"I wasn't."

"Good. I wouldn't have you-"

"Naturally not." They sat in a very awkward silence for a moment before she hesitantly asked, "Luke…can I call you Luke?"

"No reason not to."

"Are we having children?"

Luke considered this for a long time, tapping his foot and very even faced as he thought. "I haven't given it much time for thought, to be honest with you."

"Neither have I."

"I mean, I guess we probably should. With Father dead, we really-" He stopped, awkward again. "But not right now!"

"No, of course not!"

"No reason not to…um, wait, you know, and-"

"Naturally!"

They laughed uncomfortably and Luke hunted desperately for ways to make the situation normal again. He finally came upon a witty sally and added, "We should wait until you _do _decide to do something nice with your hair. Or at least cut it. I don't want to think I got involved with a bright red Wookie." If he'd been able to run from the lightsaber, he couldn't run from her tossing one of his own pillows at his head.


	13. Chapter 13

**High Flying, Adored**

**Chapter Thirteen**

Disclaimer: All characters do not belong to me, some situations do, literary and theatrical references strewn throughout – so enjoy!

A.N.: I'm so sorry for the delay on this! (especially as I'm excited for the next chapter, and I think you all will be, too. Am I being suggestive of something cool? Maybe….) But it appears the glitch is gone and I most humbly thank you for your patience.

Laurie Eve: Glad it could keep you reading to the end!

kokuhaku: Oh, the real fun stuff to face happens next chapter. Be on the edge of your seat.

Astaire: Glad you liked the characterization, that's my specialty! As to Luke and Leia, whether they do or don't is not something I should tell you.

Thefairybloom: done and done.

Madame Naberrie: My favorite kind of banter. And, yes, I love musicals, they're my favorite. I'm planning on becoming a lyricist/librettist for musicals.

SithKnight-Galen: All your questions were wonderfully valid and entirely unanswerable by me. I read them and thought, "…I never even gave that a second thought." So, while I can't answer the questions, I do have to thank you for reminding me I need to broaden my scope in stories so the details don't get left in the background. Thanks!

Jaded Imagery: Who could ask for anything more?

Healing Hands: Glad you liked it.

grayangle: I do agree, I throw in way too many Earthy references, it's a real problem. Thanks for pointing it out.

………………………………………………………………………………………

_Nobody ever  
Treated me kindly.  
Daddy left early.  
Mama was poor._

- Little Shop of Horrors

………………………………………………………………………………………

"Busy?"

"Usually."

"I meant now."

"Obviously. Don't you have something to do?"

"Don't be snappish. I _do _have something to do, I have to work on _your_-"

"_Our_-"

"_Someone's_ Foreign Policy." Mara was petulantly dressed up in what someone might describe as appropriate business attire for a lady. The Jedi called it a skirt and blouse with no place to put her lightsaber, and she hated it. Her husband – the maniac currently buried in work as she stood impatiently at his door – had smirked and reminded her of keeping up appearances.

"Don't you look cute?" he'd cooed maliciously, and had to duck her flying hand as it tried to collide with his face.

"I'm your Minister of Foreign Affairs," she now reminded him saucily as he groaned and put his head in his hands. "You meet with your Ministers every Friday unless there's something important, and it's Friday, and it's my allotted slot."

"I'm really busy," he snarled in a way he _never _snarled at his other ministers. "Couldn't this wait?"

"I _need _the reports back from last week, remember? It can't wait very long."

"You want the reports, fine," he shrugged, hastily pushing through the piles of datapads on his desk; the desk only really got messy when he got busy and usually multitasking kept it from being an issue – but problems could always arise, usually more than one at a time. He looked a little frantic and growled when he couldn't find them. "They're here, they're here, they're…somewhere." He put his forehead on the desk and sighed, and Mara sighed, too, realizing she wasn't getting them back right away. "I'll bet they're in my room," he muttered to himself. "Here, as soon as I'm done with all this, I'll let you know, we'll look for them together."

"You have no idea where they are, do you?"

"Shut up."

"Fine," the Jedi saucily purred, leaning against the frame of the door. "How Leia would laugh to see you so disheveled."

"Out, Mara, out, I'm not in the mood!"

"Bye," she teased, and left, her own temper rather improved for the day.

………………………………………………………………………………………

_Mara's grip on her master's hand had tightened almost as soon as they'd entered the busy, noisy room all the other children were playing in. Streamers hung from the ceiling and some children were playing a sort of game on the floor Mara did not recognize; that was hardly surprising, as the only toy she'd ever expressed any mild interest in was a toy soldier a Confederacy pilot had brought her as a present once. Playing to her was sitting quietly by herself and doing unintelligible things, having unintelligible conversations with the hunk of plastic. It baffled Obi-Wan._

_But this behavior did not baffle him, as Mara's quiet, reclusive nature was suddenly confronted with what must have seemed a veritable zoo of multi-racial children, yelling and screaming and running wild. The little child shrank against him and whispered fiercely, "Don't go."_

_"Don't you want to stay, Mara?" he asked her, being fatherly for a change. _

_"Nuh uh." _

_But the fatherly behavior dropped, and he was a Jedi Master teaching his new Padawan a lesson – a rather cruel lesson to the little girl. "Well, you decided to go and you said you'd come. You have an obligation that you're going to have to fulfill."_

_"Master Obi-Wan-"_

_He pried her claw like fingers from his hand as she tried to cling to him more desperately, green eyes very wide. A stern reprove through the Force ended that behavior and left her standing, arms tucked around herself, and shivering with fear. That Obi-Wan didn't like, and he bent down to be on her level again and she re-attacked his arm. "Fear leads to the Dark Side and courage is having the strength to move beyond it," he reminded her. But Mara was _five!_ She could hardly move beyond anything so uncomfortable to her, and Obi-Wan began to wonder if the Organas didn't have a point, if the harsh childhood Jedi put Younglings through didn't ultimately damage them. He thought himself rather well rounded. But he lacked a lot of the constant compassion that Amidala displayed, and it made him curious._

_Fortunately, he was saved from spoiling the girl and being forced to take back his lesson – for Senator Amidala came up and offered her hand to the newly arrived guest. "Why, Mara, hello!" she said sweetly with all the softness of a mother. The Jedi's charge looked up at her with wide, green eyes. "You don't know most of the other children, do you? I'll make sure Leia will introduce you! Would you like something to drink?"_

_When it appeared she was about to be led off into the pit – albeit with a Virgil to guide her – she craned her head to look back at her master, who was smiling at her, arms tucked over his chest. "I'll be back at 1600 to pick you up," he assured, briefly patting her head. She nodded very sadly and gulped, looking up at the senator who just smiled. When it became clear no other option was available to her, she was guided through the mass of children, none of whom paused to look at her nor thought her anything out of the ordinary – even if she looked funny in robes of a miniature Jedi._

………………………………………………………………………………………

Mara found herself staring at the data chip shelf again. Luke still got a little antsy whenever he saw her looking at it; he didn't know why she'd suddenly stopped asking questions about Tatooine, he didn't care to inquire and she never told him. He merely knew it made him uncomfortable, as though she were waiting for something worse to spring on him, if there was anything worse to spring on him.

So she could feel his full anxiety as soon as he entered his suite and saw her standing there. He just froze, absolutely froze, ice blue eyes wide as anything and watched her. To keep from startling him, she slowly turned around and betrayed nothing with her expression – because there was nothing to betray – and sent a soothing feeling through the Force. Luke finally moved.

"So," he awkwardly began, skirting around her and the shelf and just staring at the floor. "I was thinking I could have put them in my filing cabinet or some of my archive boxes by mistake."

"You keep archives in your room?"

"No. Just a few things I occasionally review, then they get sent back to the library. Anyway, they could be in there." She gave him a long look, a heavy sigh, and he glared slightly back at her. "Well, I'm sorry for making a mistake! You try being emperor sometime! You'll find it's much more difficult than you think."

"I think it's plenty difficult," she replied, going to his filing cabinet with a mildly reproachful air. "I don't think that's much of an excuse. If your foreign affairs lag, it's not because of me, got it?"

"Oh, no," the Imperator sarcastically replied. "I wouldn't dream of it."

She gave him a look and the hunt began. In fact, the hunt dragged on – for several hours. They dug about mostly silently, and then began to grow bored with it.

"So, you've heard all about my parents," began he, pushing back a lock of blond hair as it fell into his eyes, digging through a box. "What do I get to hear about yours?"

Mara gave him a sideways look, propping up next to him with a different box to search in. "Not much, I'm afraid."

"Why not? You've grilled me."

"You want to grill? Fine, grill away, I don't mind."

"Well…who were they."

"I don't know."

Luke hesitated, staring straight ahead and not at the data chip in his hand and not at her. Yes, Mara thought, now he got it. Skywalkers had a proud pedigree, an Emperor/Jedi/Pilot sire, a faultless, politician queen mother; creating the paragon of the world in the most popular emperor in the history of the Empire – and here he was, married to a back talking girl without any papers and a flimsy political alliance at best.

Actually, to be fair, Luke hadn't been thinking anything like that, it was only Mara's impression. Luke was thinking on growing up without parents, like Tatooine, whether it was more blessing or curse for his wife. "Really?" he finally said, going back to his digging at last. "You must remember something."

"I remember my father yelling and walking out the door and never walking back in again," Mara replied matter-of-factly. "At least, I think he was my father. I really couldn't tell you. But that's all I remember of him."

"Never kissing you, tucking you in bed at night?"

"Nope." She considered for a moment and sighed, "I don't think anyone ever really did that. If I got out of bed with a nightmare, Master Obi-Wan would just have me meditate." She thought on all this sadly, and Luke looked at her sadly, too; until she looked back, then he turned his eyes away and to the task at hand. "My mother," she continued a little less easily, "her I remember a bit more. But not pleasant things. I remember some spice sticks, I still _hate _that smell. That's about it, I think."

"And how did Master Obi-Wan get you from them?"

"He didn't. He got me from nobody. I don't remember when I stopped living with my mother, but I did, I lived…anywhere." She sat back and chewed on a lock of her hair to examine these memories, and Luke stopped out of politeness to sit and keep her company in her thoughts. "I think she died, she must have died. There's no other explanation for it." She shrugged and went on with her narrative. "But I couldn't really tell you. I don't think they wanted me."

"That's tragic, Mara."

Jade laughed. "That's the history of my life, if not most lives." He opened his mouth to protest and she waved him down. "I know, I know, you have better social aid programs now than when Palpatine was in power. Good for you. But, look, I didn't turn out so badly. Don't feel sorry for me."

"I do feel sorry for you," he replied softly. "I can't help it."

"Is it because I talked about not being wanted?" she asked, a little concerned because he was. "Please, don't trouble yourself on it, I'm used to not being wanted. Nobody has ever actually wanted me around."

"That isn't true."

They were both very much surprised to find his hand was covering hers, and sat in muted shock for several minutes before throats were cleared and the hand was slowly removed. "The Jedi," she began again, clenching her hand because it felt warm and strange to her, "couldn't _stand _me when I first arrived. I can hardly blame them, I was a terror." And she laughed, easing the atmosphere and making her husband smile. "Master Yoda gave Obi-Wan such a talking to…"

"Mara," Luke awkwardly coughed, "don't take this the wrong way, but…I think I would be very saddened if you were to go away – I mean for any longer than the three months you usually do. I know it's strange, but over the past…well, almost a year, I guess. Over that time I've come to think of you as…my very good friend." He gave a brief hum to collect his thoughts and stare at the caff table. "I do need that sort of balancing force. Just to let you know."

She was very surprised by the little confession; it honestly frightened her a little, introduced to a new and very big thing. It took courage to admit emotions, a factor Mara had always lacked. She therefore wrapped her arms about her knees and sat huddled like that – wordless – for several minutes before the far away chime of the ancient, manual clock in his room awakened her.

_Get out of this situation, get out of these emotions. Obi-Wan's right, emotion is death to a Jedi. Do anything, but make the world normal again._

This in mind, she grinned and playfully shoved him, breaking his tender mood and awakening the emperor a little bit. "Can you believe we've been at this for so long? Look at the time! I'm starving, so I say the reports can wait until I've eaten. It was your own stupid fault they were lost in the first place."

"Oh, a _stupid _fault is it now?"

"What other kind is there? Oh, poor Skywalker, his foreign affairs all in a muddle. Whatever shall he do to fix them?"

"Employ his Foreign Minister," he said dryly, indicating the work she'd have to do if the records were unrecoverable. Her demeanor sank a bit and she would have ripped his head off for adding to her work load – but he said, "First he'll feed her, though."


	14. Chapter 14

**High Flying, Adored**

**Chapter Fourteen**

Disclaimer: See chapter thirteen.

A.N.: I'm typing this on my new, college bound laptop! The old hand-me-down computer I've been using, while loved, has been breaking down for months. I don't especially like using laptop keyboards, but this thing is so awesome it ought to be illegal. Just thought I'd share that with all of you. Now you know you can still get fanfiction when I go away in the fall (provided the promised, "rigorous study," isn't as rigorous as I fear.) It has the newest version of Word on it which, frankly, sucks, but I'm starting to get a handle on it, just in case my formating's weird. Also, I'll be heartbroken if none of you thinks this climactic, so please to let me know. I hope it's good. Thanks also to the people who have recently favorite and watched this fic! You make it possible!

Madame Naberrie: Hey, thanks for sending me your review!

Mara-the-Cat: Sorry about the wait! As for what's next, you're about to find out.

wAcKaMoLe911: they may be more comfortable, but I'd hardly say they're out of the woods yet.

ILDV: Thank you!

phaorah: thanks.

Jaded Imagery: Thanks! Who can resist Alan Menkin and Howard Ashman?

SithKnight-Galen: I must congratulate you on really getting into the implied shades of grey of the story. Good for you! Have a cookie.

XXX: Glad you're enjoying it!

………………………………………………………………………………………

_It's done,_

_Little dream,_

_It's done._

- Anything Goes

………………………………………………………………………………………

Both thoroughly tired of being cooped up in the Imperial Palace so long, the Imperator and his wife had decided to go out to eat. This was made possible by a secluded room in a restaurant left constantly empty for the Emperor's service. It was neither the most expensive nor the most posh restaurant on Coruscant (that was frequented by Prince Xizor) but it was Skywalker's favorite, so Mara thought she might like it anyway.

He'd recommended the fish, so Jade-Skywalker naturally had to have the poultry to spite him, while he, not quite so hungry, had stuck with the day's stew. In between the wine and the meal was the conversation, and Luke reflected that hardly a bite of food had ever passed his lips in his marriage with her when she wasn't asking him questions; not much had changed.

Tonight, though, he was speaking and smiling freely. "You know what my father and I fought about the most when I was a child?"

"Other than being a pilot?" she replied, swirling the wine in her glass.

"Other than being a pilot."

"What?"

He gave her a long, amused look with those blue eyes of his and she became curious. "A puppy."

Then she nearly spewed the wine. "What?"

"You're laughing."

"How – why? –"

"I don't know why you're laughing. I find it hurtful that you are."

She couldn't help it and he grinned at her as she buried her face in her napkin, thrown into a mixed coughing, laughing fit. "It's very simple," the Imperator continued when she was safely sipping at her water glass once more. "It was lonely in that cold, sterile palace, and I wanted to have a pet. I wasn't concentrating on my studies enough, though, so Father refused."

"And what did you do?"

"Pouted." She laughed again. "I wouldn't speak to him for a week."

"What did you think you would do?"

"Run away. I even told him so. I told him I would run away to my mother who would be so happy to see me she would instantly give me as many puppies as I'd like."

"If you asked," Mara sighed, now very sad looking, "she probably would."

"Don't do that," he demanded in a friendly way. "It was not designed to be a sad story, you be cheerful. Take it as an Imperial edict."

"I don't have any stories like that," said the Jedi girl, cutting into her food once more. "I never really dared to ask Master Obi-Wan for anything. I suppose if I did he would always deny me because it was usually something Master Yoda would object to, and then I'd just pitch an awful fit." She smiled with a dreamy expression in those normally hard green eyes. "I was not a popular girl in the Temple."

Luke did not reply for a little while, leaning back and nursing his drink. "Do you miss your master, Mara Jade?"

"Yes, Imperator, I miss my master."

"And do you enjoy these strange formalities we throw at each other?"

"It keeps things interesting."

Now very serious he leaned to her and was about to ask her a deep question when a strange look struck his face. It nearly terrified Mara, since he dropped his wine glass (startling the wait droid) and she was convinced he was suffering from a stroke. The shattered glass, thankfully, woke him up. "Oh, that was a stupid thing to do."

"Are you alright? What on earth is it!"

"What?" he asked. "Did I startle you?"

"Did you startle me! Kessle, Luke Skywalker, I could hate you for what you did to me."

"I'm terribly sorry!" apologized the man, stooping to pick up the glass pieces, which he handed to the droid. "It's just I remembered where I put your data pads!"

She stared at him in shock, finally collapsing back in her chair and taking a long drink of water. "You could have found a more polite way of telling me!"

"You're right, it sort of surprised me, though, so I guess it registered in my face."

"Well, where are they."

"My nightstand, can you believe it?"

She gave him a long, hard glare. "Your nightstand."

"Yes."

"How do you know? What were you doing with them in your nightstand."

"You know as well as I there aren't enough hours in the day, Mara," he replied saucily, crossing his legs and arms. "I squeeze whatever I can in before I fall asleep. This time it was your reports. Next time it might be my next address. Who can say? That's just the way things are."

"We better go," she sighed, highly irritated, folding her napkin in her lap. Her husband agreed, and since dinner was always put on his tab, they were ready to leave in a moment. Just standing outside a few minutes later, the speeder doors opened for them, the Emperor hesitated.

"Take a deep breath," he instructed, and his wife knew him to be absolutely insane. "I don't think the air's clean enough. I ought to fix that."

"Good luck," she sighed, tired, and therefore ready to crawl into the waiting speeder.

"Hm," he considered, waiting a few moments more. "What will history say about Luke Skywalker?" he wondered aloud. "That he was a tyrant? A pushover?" He took one more deep breath and was prepared to leave. "I need no monument to time. If I could save one person who saved one person, and so on…then my life hasn't been wasted."

He noticed Mara staring at him – which she usually did when he got into that philosophical frame of thought – and smiled back at her. "Shall we go?"

She shook her head as he got into the speeder with her. "Are you sure you were born?" she asked dryly. "I thought things like you were made and cloned and biologically tested."

"You'll have to take that up with my mother the next time you see her," he laughed merrily.

………………………………………………………………………………………

The speeder pulled into the dark quiet of the garage, the musty smell of the other speeders mingling with the night air as they stepped out, mood jovial. The entire palace was still, and the faint click of the Emperor's boots on the polished floor (the droids even polished the garage!) was about the only sound that greeted Mara Jade, followed by his voice.

"This won't take but a moment," he smiled, walking on to his quarters while she followed slowly and quietly behind. "This'll get you off my back, won't it? Then we can all get back to work again." She followed him into the elevator, dropping them right into his hallway.

"Did you mean what you said about saving one person and that being enough?" she asked him rather suddenly, surprising the both of them, but Emperor Skywalker only glanced at her.

"If you have to ask, why should I tell you?"

"That's not a fair reply."

"It's perfectly fair. Here, I'll unlock the door." He'd advanced to his room by this point, but Mara waited, quite content by the window. Everything in the Emperor's wing was lit, so the corridor was very pleasant, and she perused it and the art hanging on the wall as Luke keyed in the necessary information on the lock pad.

The Imperial Palace was quiet, serene, calm. Like a sense of unity, it made Mara feel like meditating and-

But it wasn't quiet. That's what surprised her most of all, was that where the garage had seemed sound proof to the noises of the world, the hallway suddenly wasn't. There was a buzzing, a humming, like an enormous bee hive surging and growing and mulling everywhere; she moved toward the curtained window.

Even as her husband paid her sudden alarm no mind, Mara knew there was nothing to worry about. Luke's corridor – and the windows on this side in particular – had a lovely view of the outside courtyard in the front of the palace. At this time of night, she knew exactly what she'd see; a few of the Imperial Guards on duty, marching back and forth in front of the old, iron wrought gates; the fountain spraying elegant arcs of water in a warm, inviting light of blue, which it would share with the cobblestones of the yard; shrubs and exotic flowers; by the gate there would be tourists, maybe picketers on a busy day, or just citizens passing by. The front façade hadn't changed in the six months she'd known it, equally serene.

It had never hummed until now. Noise might drift through it, but not like this.

With great hesitation, the Jedi moved the heavy curtain – and did _not_ find those Imperial Guards on the watch, their gear or snow flake or whatever seals on the arm a strangely comforting sight. For starters, there were people _everywhere_. They pressed up against the gate en mass – far more people than Mara had ever seen there. They chanted, worse than at Vader's funeral, crying, "Emperor Skywalker, Emperor Skywalker, long live the emperor!" They sounded…indignant! Enraged! Enraged at what lay beyond the gate.

Which was _not _the Imperial Guard. In point of fact, the Imperial Guard was _not _on patrol. Secure behind the gates, blasters drawn and lined and aimed at the crowd lest something go wrong, were Black Sun soldiers; the round center and the spikes divoting out in a real, threatening way on the black patches on well pressed uniforms, glowing blue from the fountain.

Mara stumbled back, heart pounding, and with marked alarm called, "Luke!" She rushed to his door, which now stood open, and found him just standing in it, jaw tightly clenched as well as the fists at his side. Another four Black Sun soldiers were standing in his room – how could they have gotten into his room! – a captain in charge looking very hesitant and poised.

The Jedi didn't have to stop to think; she _ripped _her lightsaber off her belt, startling the guard into drawing their blasters, and would have gone charging forward – had Luke not thrown her arms down.

"Now's not the time," he told her, pushing her back behind him and giving her a look that forbade trying that heroic stunt again; the captain was slowly assuring the men that it was alright to lower their own weapons.

_Of course_, Mara seethed, glaring first at the emperor and next at the Black Sun trash. _I try and save him and he tells me not to._

Luke _loathed _conflict, he hated violence, Mara knew that. It was what probably kept him from being a Lord of the Sith. And right now it was forbidding her from getting into a brawl with these soldiers and maybe making the ones outside panic into doing something stupid. She would have been angry with him, but she understood his motives too well. How could she not understand them, when his insistence at peace was what had prompted their marriage in the first place?

"Now's not the time," he told her, opening his palm as the captain handed him a data pad. "It's better to let these things go quietly, we can think everything over later."

"Let them go quietly," she repeated angrily, reading over his rather broad shoulder. How could he even guarantee there'd _be _a later?

The data pad, in short, declared that Prince Xizor, the Falleen of Black Sun, had seen fit to declare a national emergency (what gave him the right, she wondered), instill martial law, and remove His Excellency, Luke Skywalker, from office – indefinitely.

_Who does he think he is! Where does he get the right!_ Mara was crying inside herself, and almost as if he had heard her, Luke whispered, "The strong like the idea that might makes right." He looked at her and handed back the data pad. "We'll show them otherwise."

But not now, obviously, with the emperor's distaste for anything that clashed. He was _painfully _calm and expectant with the captain as the man announced, "So long as you come quietly, sir, there'll be no need for binders."

Mara was outraged for him that she did not address Luke as the Imperator; _that _she didn't understand, a Republican bred girl who had no use for titles. But the title no longer represented tyranny to her, it represented respect. The soldier was the tyrant here – no, _Xizor's _soldier – and that was what she found the most intolerable about the whole thing.

"I have no intention," was Luke's stiff reply, "of going anywhere but quietly." Without another word – and that included not a word to Mara – the four guardsmen had marched the sovereign Emperor out of his own quarters and down his own hall.

_That _was too much for the girl, who grabbed his arm, a look of real concern and alarm on her face. "Don't let them take you," she begged him fiercely, and found some comfort in the compassionate look those blue eyes were giving her – as if he would have touched her, comforted her, but didn't have the time.

"Everything's going to be fine," he assured her in a whisper as someone ripped her off him and he continued down the hall. "It will be alright."

"Don't touch me!" she snarled at the guard who had pried her off her own husband, shrugging him off and readying to rush to his side. "Luke!"

"This way, _please_, Mrs. Skywalker," the guard who had detained her was saying. It threw Mara off as she'd _never _been called that before, and realized it was just as awkward for the soldier, too, who could not call her the Empress with her husband deposed.

_The world has gone insane! Everything is upside down, I-_

There was no time for that, as the soldier was telling her; Prince – pardon, _Emperor _Xizor was anxious to see her.

………………………………………………………………………………………

_"Hello! My name is Leia. You're Mara Jade. I know__ because my daddy told me all about the Jedi. I can name them all and all the codes of conduct." There was a pause. "Would you like some punch?"_

_Mara was stock still – too surprised to move, really – as she was confronted with Leia Organa, who had just turned five. Her soft locks of straight brown hair (which Mara envied) were done in a pattern foreign to her with a large lily pinned within the mass. Her little round cheeks had a healthy child's blush to them, her eyes big and dark. Her little dress was very white and soft looking, unlike the rough and often scratchy Jedi robes (which Mara envied). She was sweet, polite, talkative and very calm and at home among this sea of noisy children (which Mara envied)._

_She was standing face to face with the declared golden girl of the entire Republic Confederacy, beloved by all, the perfect child of two of the most perfect leaders. Mara, in __contrast, had no parents, was not liked much at all by the Jedi saving Obi-Wan, and not always him, and could not even name all of the Jedi Code let alone follow it._

_It would have been the most ideal set up for hatred ever created, but before the ever angry Mara could get a good shot at it, the Alderaanian, Nubian princess had taken her hand and led her to a table with cups of punch. With notable difficulty, she crawled onto a chair and retrieved one for her guest, even though Mara was taller than her, and handed it to the Jedi apprentice, smiling. _

_"I'm very glad you could come to my party," she said. So was Mara._


	15. Chapter 15

**High Flying, Adored**

**Chapter Fifteen**

Disclaimer: While the current situation is loosely based on historical events (points to whoever guesses what it is), the characters and settings used in this fic are absolutely not the property of the owner, are used without permission, and are making no money.

A.N.: So, the general impression I got was that most of you found it enigmatic rather than climactic, but you liked it, so that's good! It should be that way in the first hours of a coup. Hope this next chapter explains things a little better. Also, is it just me, or has there been a drop off in reviews? Maybe I'm just selfish. Lastly, this is another big scene I was really looking forward to, so I hope you like it.

grayangle: While he probably is screwed, you're forgetting that Luke hasn't used the Force once yet. This point will come up later.

Madame Naberrie: Admittedly, the Imperial Guard bit was a little confusing, but I'm glad you're still emotionally involved nevertheless.

ILDV: Thanks.

Mara-the-Cat: Glad you found it climactic!

G-Anakin13: Thanks very much.

Verity Kindle: That's very flattering, thanks so much!

SithKnight-Galen: You always wonder such interesting details! I dunno, though, it's kind of hard to think on one's feet in the middle of a coup.

………………………………………………………………………………………

_Blows and abuse _

_I can take and give back again_

_Tenderness I cannot bear._

- Man of La Mancha

………………………………………………………………………………………

_Mara was very confused about the little girl who was turning five, graciously accepting presents and being the center of attention. Mara didn't really know when her birthday was, and wasn't sure if she wanted one. Jedi lived stark lives, so who could bring her many presents anyway? The best she'd ever gotten __was a toy from a Rebel pilot once. Otherwise, she spent all her time in study, in meditation, in practice; a Jedi did not know how to be a child._

_Nor did Leia act spoiled, which of course she was. No gift, however small, made her upset, nor did she fuss and pout if attention was taken away from her; there were so many people, it didn't matter._

_And most of all, she paid a co__nstant and attentive interest to__ Mara (she must have been instructed to do so by her mother), __continually__ making sure she was comfortable, entertained, well fed and reasonably happy._

_The pinnacle, however, had arrived at 1600 when Obi-Wan had come to fetch her back to the Temple as the other guests left. Leia was torn between ducking shyly behind her mother's leg and continuing to romp with the Jedi girl – who had opened up considerably over the last few hours and was enjoying her time with her sudden, new friend._

_"Master Obi-Wan," Padmé Amidala said, trying to catch hold of her wiggly daughter, "Leia had a request for you."_

_Mara, who had been very glad to see her master and was quietly detailing the events of the party to him, paused, highly surprised. So was Obi-Wan, apparently, and his Padawan looked up at the still beautiful, poised woman with wide, green eyes. Amidala Skywalker Organa then shoved Leia forward, who giggled shyly, digging the toe of her dress shoes into the ground and whispered, "Master Obi-Wan, could Mara spend the night tonight?"_

_"What do you say?" her mother reminded._

_"Please?" piped the little girl._

_Both the Jedi were astounded at the request, and Mara looked up at her master, not daring to hope. Kenobi looked awkward. He coughed, "Do you want to stay, Mara?"_

_The girl was reticent and hesitant, but was seriously considering giving her own opinion, despite the Jedi consequences. "I-"_

………………………………………………………………………………………

"Lady Jade?"

Mara looked up to find the previously closed door opened and a distinctly reptilian silhouette standing there. When they'd put her in the warm, dimly lit room, she'd sat upon one of the plush chairs and remembered her last conversation with Darth Vader. Oh, sure, it was an escape from the hell of the present, but that was almost worse, and she'd got up to pace continually; the Emperor would see her soon, they said, the Emperor would not keep her waiting long.

She shuddered. The Emperor, the Emperor. But _Luke_ was the Emperor, and Force only knew is he was alive! Who was Xizor? What was he to take over, how would he treat her, or Luke, or the treaties, or the people, or-

Mara ran shaking hands through her red hair and demanded the presence of mind to meditate, had sat calmly back in the chair again, and recalled a memory of her childhood to steady herself upon. This is what she'd been dwelling on – purposefully ignoring the sinking feeling that with every minute, her husband's chances of survival in a coup lessened – when the door had _finally _opened and admitted Prince – _Emperor _Xizor.

The Falleen was cataclysmically polite, it threw Mara off. A man who had just deposed the most popular ruler in a century and was putting her own life in danger had no right to be so polite. But with distinguished grace and polish, he'd slinked or slithered into the room, enquiring, "Lady Jade?" which sounded very prim and proper on his forked tongue, and even had the graciousness to kiss her hand with the air of a total gentleman; in appearances, she had to admit, he had Luke beat.

"I'm so very sorry to have kept you waiting," he purred, lavender eyes bright and taciturn. "It was not very polite of me, but there were so many things to see to in order to avoid bloodshed in these matters. I'm sure you understand."

Avoid bloodshed? She didn't have the presence of mind to keep from asking, "Does that mean Luke's alright?"

The Falleen rather froze, surprised by the first name basis when he was so _painfully_ formal, maybe surprised by other things. After a moment, though, he gave a small laugh, more to let the air out of his chest than out of good humor. "Ah, yes," he replied, folding his long, bony hands behind him, behind his opulent robes of high quality material; Luke never dressed up like that, Mara thought. Luke agreed appearances were important, but it got to a point where one was just showing off. But that couldn't be why such a nice person as _Xizor _would-

_Hold it. Something's not right here. He just deposed the lawful emperor and now _he's _the nice one?_

Mara was stunned – ashamed, even – of her train of thought, and would have begun berating herself as an easily impressed, disloyal diplomat and wife had she not noticed one thing; when Xizor pulled his hands from behind him to motion something in some absent-minded way, the tips of his long-nailed fingers were orange.

Orange. He was a Falleen using his pheromones upon her. Not much, not yet, but he didn't need much for the necessary affect. Her shame turned to outrage and she carefully built higher her guard wall, calling on the Force for all her strength.

"Ah, yes," he replied, failing to notice how suddenly skeptical his guest now was of him. "For the present."

"For the present. What does that mean?"

"It means that, for his own protection, I had to take Lord Skywalker into custody. The crowd outside was getting restless, violent even, and-"

"They didn't sound like they were angry at Emperor Skywalker to me," she said pointedly, crossing her arms and daring him to correct her pronoun use with still calling Skywalker the emperor.

Xizor paused again, very mildly irritated. "Accidents can happen. Maybe they weren't _all _upset with Skywalker, but in the heat of the moment…" He shrugged. "Who can say." They stared at each other for a good, long moment before the Falleen began pacing in a circle around Mara's chair, very calm as she remained very stiff. "Now, as I was saying, I'm sorry for the abrupt treatment on your behalf. It is never my intention to offend the Republic Confederacy. I'm sure you know," he purred, glancing long-ways at her, "that I hold a special place for them in my heart and am always ready should they ever need my assistance."

_Sure, until it suits you otherwise_. Mara said nothing and crossed her arms tighter over her breast. "You yourself will not be affected by this sadly necessary step-"

"_Why_ was it necessary?" she asked, and he seemed a little more irritated.

"I don't have time to explain the details to you right now, I understand you're not entirely well educated in diplomacy, and-"

"Forgive me, Your Excellency, there may not be time later." He seemed to like hearing her call him, "Excellency," and Mara decided he was a creature with an inordinate amount of pride, hubris full to the bursting, and stored this little fact away in the back of her mind and began to feel stronger again.

Eventually, though, Xizor decided against an explanation she could always turn around on him and maybe use to his disadvantage. He didn't think this extremely _likely_, of course, as he was always one step ahead of the competition, but he got that way from being cautious, and intended to remain so, even at the top. "I will make sure there is time," he replied, intending to continue on. "Now, as I was saying, Lord Skywalker shall remain safe in my custody until I deem otherwise; that could be today, that could be never. It all depends on how you and he decide to play out the scenario."

Mara was highly surprised. "Him and I?" she asked, pointing to herself. The Prince turned Emperor nodded, very calm. "I don't understand."

"You see, I have an array of options for the two of you, together or apart." By this time, he had tired of standing and was drawing up a chair, sitting comfortably and regally across from the prey in this cat and mouse game. "You, of course, at any time are free to leave – to go _home_. I have neither the right nor the slightest inclination to stop you. Your contract stipulates your loyalty to Skywalker, it says nothing about me, and frankly, at the present I am hesitant to continue old agreements until I have the time to review and improve anything. No offense intended."

"Understandable," she muttered, now crossing her legs and still not liking any of this; attractive as that option was, it still didn't clarify anything on Luke, and she waited for him to continue.

"As for Lord Skywalker himself, well, obviously for his safety and for the security of the Empire as a whole, he cannot be allowed to leave my custody nor to enter office and take any sort of control. The consequences could be dramatic as well as deadly."

"Why, _why _is his life in danger?" she almost wearily demanded. "Who is it that wants him harmed?" The Falleen said nothing, merely looking at her with those disturbing lavender eyes, and then Mara got it; _he _did. Luke had hit the nail on the head in a way Xizor would never acknowledge out loud nor need to, but he _did _hate Lord Vader's son, all things that smacked of Skywalker, and it was baffling. Mara was becoming increasingly uncomfortable and said nothing else.

"If he so desperately wants to remain on Coruscant, he may do so – indefinitely. Again, for safety's sake, confined, and it's difficult to tell if nothing would happen to him then, either." Why, Mara wondered. Would Xizor have a hand in it? An assassination? "But," he was continuing, "there is a small, lush planet on the Outer Rim – sparsely populated, and not by anything dangerous – that I am more than willing to hand over to him. Think of it as a wonderful early retirement, nothing but leisure all day long; the planet is very beautiful with lots of resources. In fact, to prove my goodwill, I'm willing to send any of the comforts of the civilized, technological life he lacks there – within reason, naturally."

"And what's to prove that this planet is so safe and habitable?" she asked, clearly skeptical, and was unnerved by Xizor's calm, amused expression.

"Because of the final option in this grand scheme of what he and you can do." He smiled. "I was going to offer to let you go with him."

Mara was surprised again, blinking. "Me?"

The Falleen nodded. "I thought you might feel some strange, inexplicable loyalty to the man and that – as his wife – you might wish to keep him company. Of course, I cannot allow you to go back to Coruscant ever again either, nor even the Republic Confederacy." When she seemed to look at him with a sort of mistrustful hate of his plan, he explained, "I would personally have it patrolled – again, for safety; no one gets in, no one gets out, except supply ships. Does all that make sense now?"

"Almost," Mara was hesitant, confused on what to do as a diplomat, as a wife, as a Jedi – as a _person_.

"I understand this is all very sudden," Xizor cooed at her, standing again and placing a firm hand upon her shoulder. "It can be very difficult, very confusing to bear with in the immediate, but I naturally offer my comfort and support." That hand now was removed, extended to her, and Mara stared in wary shock from it to him and the odd expression on his features; the outstretched palm was now completely orange as well as the fingertips. "In case you're lonely without your husband tonight, Mara Jade."

There was still that clear moment of shock before Mara took her chair and scooted markedly – though not far – away. Xizor was not set off by the slight, though he was obviously irked by it, maybe mildly insulted. "Fine," he replied rather gruffly, refolding his hands before him. "It's fine, I don't want you anyway. I have much bigger goals in mind."

Mara opened her mouth to ask but was still too shocked and disgusted by the night's events to even try to formulate a coherent sentence. The new emperor obviously recognized this and clarified for her.

"Princess Leia," he purred, a wide smile sneaking onto his face. He closed his eyes and seemed to revel in an inner image, and therefore missed the even greater shock and disgust he'd just put her through. _Leia_? But she was twenty-five years old, a senator, the golden girl of Alderaan! She!...

Mara didn't have time to think on the increasing inability to understand the workings of the world she was recognizing growing around her. Leia was a childhood companion, a little girl who had invited her to slumber parties and still liked to play with the Jedi's hair during moments of quiet solitude. She was a fiery young girl, more important, she was _engaged_, but Mara decided against mentioning the scruffy smuggler who played fiancé.

Xizor was still being transported to a place of pleasures by the fantasy he had going in his mind, motioning his hands in strange manners to help describe his rapture at an invisible being. "Princess Leia," he sighed again, "What a treasure! The finest pedigree available in a human. Her unfortunate relation to Skywalker can be permitted," he explained with an obvious air of distaste at that part, "since it is maternal, and no sin of her own." He turned eager eyes on Mara, who was sinking into her chair in total astonishment, unable to really handle the spiraling events anymore. "I'm told you know the girl very well," whispered he, leaning over the shrunken woman. "The princess is the very finest in diplomatic prowess, intelligence, capability, _everything_ – is she not?"

Mara stuttered and stammered. "Leia is…" she tried, intending to agree, but Xizor pressed on heedless, not needing her approval or confirmation of the fact.

"No finer consort alive could be imagined or made, especially not for a sovereign emperor of the most powerful state in centuries." Xizor shivered with some sort of self-satisfaction and pleasure, and turned back to Mara Jade to explain the rest. "No slight is intended to you, of course, Lady Jade; doubtless you yourself are a very capable consort. However, you'll understand if I intend to replace Skywalker's choice in alliance with the Confederacy with one of my own?"

Mara tried to speak again, but found she couldn't, and instead just nodded, eyes rather vacant as she noticed a very large lump in her throat. The Falleen seemed satisfied with that, and slowly lowered himself back into his chair. "Doubtless, when I present my intentions to her esteemed father, he will not be able to help but to see the wisdom of such a union, not only for his house but for his country." There was a heady, happy sigh from the creature as all his schemes and work came together. "Mixing politics and love, what a treat, what a pleasure." He examined his nails in a critical, self-appreciative way. "I shall take good care of Princess Organa, no one could do better."

It made Mara sick to think of him as the Emperor, to hear him speak as if the wedding date was already set and Leia weren't in love with Han. When the time came, would she recognize his hormonal arsenal of tricks, would she be able to resist? Could her father, more importantly, in the face of powerful politics. It made Mara's head just pound unbearably, and she croaked, "Emperor Xizor…" He glanced at her, mildly curious. "I have just one question for you."

"I am more than happy to be at your service, madam."

"You obviously hate Luke Skywalker." She looked at him, maybe glared, from beneath her hand (shielding her eyes from the thin light), eyes dark and tired in their greenness. Xizor seemed both surprised by the lack of subtlety in her remark and displeased by her switch from a topic he found highly pleasurable. "But may one ask why?"

The Falleen hesitated, rubbing and wringing his hands in loops and patterns in a constantly agitated manner, debating with himself. He opened and closed his mouth several times, still thinking, before deciding to go for broke and bolting from his chair.

"Have you ever been to the planet of Falleen?" he asked her, manner very excited, and she shook her head no. "There was a city there, with a powerful family with a powerful son – all very happy, doing well. And there was a biological testing ground on this planet, near this city, run by…" He lost pace in his fairytale, however, when he saw the look of total non-comprehension on her face; Xizor grew frustrated and irritated again, regaining his poise. "Never mind. It is a long story, probably boring, certainly complicated." For safety, he added, "And who could hate such a charming man as young Lord Skywalker?"

Mara didn't like his answer, he could see it on her face, but there was a mild smile on his – a superior, protected, easy smile that knew he didn't have to tell Mara anything, nor really be polite as he dismissed her to her own quarters, still allowed her in the Imperial Palace thanks to Emperor's Xizor's chivalry and good grace.


	16. Chapter 16

**High Flying, Adored**

**Chapter Sixteen**

Disclaimer: See chapter fifteen.

A.N.: The only news thus far doesn't have much to do with this fic. I should find out soon if a play of mine will be produced/dramatically read-through by a local company, so if you all would wish me luck in that regard, it would be greatly appreciated. Also of note is I'm finally able to work Word 2007 with greater ease.

Mara-the-Cat: He's not terribly likeable, is he?

Madame Naberrie: I'm glad you liked the chapter and doubly glad it was unsettling! He's meant to be a creep. But I agree, the LM-shipper in me would love it if Luke and Mara went away together. Wouldn't make for much of a fic, though. And I _adore_ Man of La Manch, the Impossible Dream's my theme song.

ILDV: Hope this was soon enough!

AriesFireGirl: Hey, don't kill the messenger, Xizor's not my character. Glad you liked the writing style, though.

GreenEyedCatDragon: Again, though, Luke hasn't used the Force once yet, so keep that in mind. And Xizor doesn't understand the working of a free Republic ;).

SithKnight-Galen: Han hasn't had much of a role yet, it would be kind of nice if he gutted him, especially in defense of his fiancé.

September Derleth: I agree, and there will be an explanation in the next chapter. But if you go back and look through the chapters, the only thing Luke refers to himself as is the emperor, not a Sith. He believes that might does not equal right, nor should strength be used like a form of tyranny and ruling the people. Whether he'd trained in the Force or not will soon be discussed.

Second-Last Herald-Mage: _Nobody_ knows that Leia is Vader's daughter! Leia and Vader didn't even know it! Xizor is a jerk, but he's fun to write.

………………………………………………………………………………………

_All true leaders of men_

_Delegate now and then_

- By Jeeves

………………………………………………………………………………………

They'd clustered around the holonet vid link mindless, mouth's mildly agape and staring. It was too much to take in to comment, save the occasional gasp and the covering of their mouths and the whisperings of, "Oh no, oh no…" Master Yoda was completely inaccessible, meditating the whole mess out and taking his own sweet time about it. An emergency meeting of the Senate had been called but would not be in session for another hour – for now, they just hung around... waiting. Waiting in front of the blaring holonets and holostats; the screaming Ralcorp News Service (who said it was the end of tyranny), the less publicity minded Coruscant Daily Chronicle (who said it was the first true example of tyranny since the death of Emperor Palpatine twenty one years ago – and everyone had a hard time believing he'd been dead that long). The other, littler services were covering it in every detail imaginable.

And in the seat of the Republican Confederacy, on baited-breath Alderaan, it was the slow unfolding of an unstoppable, unspeakable tragedy – a train wreck they were forced to watch but could play no part in.

"This could ruin _everything_," Bail Organa was heard to say, and had repeated at least twenty times in the last hour. He could see the work of the last twenty seven years flittering out of his hands like a piece of cotton pollen that had barely ever been there at all. The distinguished senator and former president was close to tearing his hair to pieces as he tried to think of what would happen next.

His daughter was saying very little, standing around with the others, but disappearing whenever it got too bad for her and hiding in her secret lover's arms behind the Jedi Temple library – possibly to cry, though Han would never tell. He had no comment on the events either.

Padmé Amidala was giving most of the, "Oh no,"s, Wedge Antilles rather more colorful vocabulary for much the same thought, and Master Obi-Wan – after failing to see the meditating Jedi Master, was pacing back and forth with calm, deep breaths, focusing, trying to call out to Mara; she was too busy to hear him, though, too far away, too, and he instead resigned himself to a momentary helplessness and watched the news. The only comment he dared to make was, "Mara's there, what's happening to Mara?" which was forefront on everyone's mind.

Along with the disturbingly insistent fear that Emperor Skywalker was dead.

There had been a coup on Coruscant, and in the immediate aftermath, no one could make out the details; it had picked a bad time, for Padmé had been enjoying the pleasant weather and a lunch with her daughter, the two of them chatting merrily and sweetly when the first guard had raced in to tell the news.

"Something's happening on Coruscant, the Emperor's been murdered!"

Padmé dropped her utensils and stared at the messenger while Leia tried some coherent nonsense about people pulling his leg and reminding him of the popularity polls of the current emperor.

"I'm dead serious, Princess, it's all over the holostats!"

Of course, Luke Skywalker wasn't dead – so far as anyone knew, details were foggy on what had happened in the last four hours – but the replaced and mildly confused press secretary had denied that any physical harm had befallen the dethroned man. It was good news for Amidala Organa, who had been holding her stomach with the idea she might soon vomit if this nightmare didn't stop.

So, theoretically, the former emperor was alive, but nothing had been confirmed or denied. At the present moment, now that the afternoon had melted away into a lovely – and completely un-enjoyable – evening, it was becoming increasingly clear that of all people, Prince _Xizor _had seized the reins at the Imperial Seat.

"Xizor?" Padmé had puzzled. "Why would he do something like that?"

"It's a crock," her husband insisted. "It _must _be Imperial soldiers. It's as much Xizor as Skywalker's being dead."

"Don't joke about that."

"Who's laughing?"

"Who wants caff?" Wedge edgily asked, not liking the situation or the air about the open courtyard. "Me, I'm dying for some caff. Anyone else?"

"What if it is Xizor, what do we do then?"

"We can't do anything until the Senate convenes. That's not for a little while yet, and then things will be logically thought through. Just try and get your head in order for now."

"Anyone at all want caff?"

"I don't know how I can; I feel like a puzzle and the pieces have been kicked across the galaxy."

"It's going to be alright, we've pulled through worse."

"Guys?" pleaded the pilot.

"I'll take some, Wedge, thank you," Obi-Wan answered him, since everyone else was too occupied. He patted his shoulder and shoved him off while Bail was tenderly comforting Padmé, holding her hand and whispering to her.

"The question must be considered," the Jedi Master solemnly reminded, "of what stance on Republican independence and the presence of the Jedi Xizor will take, if indeed he is in power."

"I don't think that's anything to worry about," Organa said, holding the weary Amidala Skywalker against his chest. "Xizor has always maintained friendly contact with the Confederacy."

"Up to the present, he's also done that with the Skywalker administration, which has also done that with us."

"Don't hate him just because it's Luke who's deposed," Padmé broke, though it was clear the message was more directed at herself than the insanely calm Jedi.

After a long moment, he reminded, "A Jedi does not hate."

"And a Jedi does not love. I don't think those rules will survive the passing generation."

The remark puzzled Obi-Wan, who tilted his head. "Mara's not in love with anyone."

"No," the former queen was sniffling, "maybe not. But she does hate. Ask her sometime, and she'll tell you."

Obi-Wan remained confused by the senator's outburst, and tried to find a correct response, but was stopped by another flash bulletin from the holonet. "MARTIAL LAW EMPLOYED ON-WORLD," it cried in disturbingly bold headlines and loud speakers. "ARREST OF DANGEROUS PERSONS MADE. MORE AT 2300."

After a long and terrified moment, Bail softly muttered, "The world can never be the same." No one looked at him, but it was clear that everyone was listening. "It was frightening enough – joyous, even – when Palpatine died, but what do we do now? What do we think, what do we feel? We created alliances we'd never dared before, known a safety denied us in thirty years of war – and one man is ripping it all to shreds."

They waited in silent reverie for a moment – frightened of breaking the solemnity if they spoke – before Wedge had come blundering back with large pots of caff. "I got it!" he cried, proud of having been able to accomplish something in a topsy-turvy world. "Who wants cream and who wants sugar?"

The squealing, siren-y cry of the Call to the Floor resounded from the Senate Hall across the courtyard, and Bail and Padmé looked instinctively and curiously up from their intimate posture. "No time, Wedge," the senator said, releasing his strong-again wife. "Convention of the Senate. Where's Leia? Leia!" When there was no immediate response, he immediately shoved the pilot off again, instructing, "Go get Leia, Wedge, go get her now."

The Rogue Leader turned go-for gave a slight groan, but decided at least he could be useful in some aspect if his flying skills could help no one at the moment. Obi-Wan watched the whole thing unfold – watched the filling and the emptying of the courtyard, then silently watched Princess Leia skitter by as she hurried to her place…and looked like she'd been in tears. Obi-Wan said nothing, slowly turning when everything was perfectly silent and regarding the holovid once more. He'd been very content to look at it, though not really watch it as he relied on his solid, Jedi thought – when there came a bright beep of a noise and something popped up on the screen.

Curious (and not very good at computers, not like Anakin, or even the young Luke), he leaned forward with a serious look before becoming rationally, concentrated-ly excited.

Mara Jade was on the holonet, sending an alert. She could give a holovid message.

………………………………………………………………………………………

_"Do you want to stay, Mara?" Master Obi-Wan had asked her._

_It was one of the few times in Mara's life that Mara had really been asked a question based on her opinion. True, she was constantly grilled with questions during her training, but this usually pertained to the lesson or trying to assess her capacity to go to the Dark Side if she ever__ got too far out of hand._

_Like Anakin. Mara was as of yet unaware who this man exactly was, but his name was whispered in a hush, in a soft voice that made him seem remote, unreachable, untouchable._

_It seemed to her a profound moment, and she stuttered, "I-"_

………………………………………………………………………………………

The dream-memory Mara had wrapped herself in was shattered again, still by _Emperor _Xizor.

She'd been escorted back to her quarters, tried to ready herself for bed and found she was exhausted – but wide awake. She tried to meditate and found she couldn't sit still. She stood up to pace and then did something she _hated _herself for.

She began to cry.

In her woman's weakness, in her fear in the face of a dangerous and stressful situation, she broke down, fell upon her bed and begun to cry. It was a purely natural – healthy, even! – response, but Mara loathed it. She wanted to be stronger than that because she wasn't sure she was; because Luke needed her; because the strong _survived_.

But there she was, crying on her bed – a bed given to her because she'd married Luke Skywalker. Like the clothes in her closet. Like her revoked position as Foreign Minister. Like the access cards and data pads and ability to help people – because Luke Skywalker married her and eventually decided to trust her with these things. But now she could help _no one_, least of all her husband or herself.

_We could be exiled to Force knows where or die in our sleep tonight. I don't know what to do!_

She's been about to cry out to some unhearing gods of the barbarity of this, to cry for Master Obi-Wan and plead for help, to beg the Force; that responded, slowly and tenderly drifting her into a more comfortable, secure time that now lived only in her heart –

When Xizor had knocked at her quarter's door.

She'd quickly flung a mask of the mothering Force about her so it did not look like she'd been crying or mussed her clothes or been tugging at her hair; so that it only looked like she was the most serene and calm dethroned Empress that had ever existed. Looking like this, she unbolted her door and beheld the rather irritated – but ever so polite – looking new emperor.

"A thought occurred to me," he said straight out with no protocol introduction, "that perhaps you would be a little unsettled by all these events." She said nothing and did not invite him in. "You looked a little harried at our parting," this was regrettably true, "and quite a bit has been thrown upon your shoulders for a decision to be made soon. That is not entirely fair."

"Quick decisions are not unknown in my line of work, Your Grace."

"This is true, yet I doubt it was ever such a decision as this?" Mara said nothing, could find nothing to say. "Naturally," the Falleen purred, "sometimes quick decisions are best. But I thought to bring you a little comfort." When she bristled, he clarified. "It struck me you might like to see your husband for a few minutes tonight, yes?"

This chipped valiantly away at Mara's careful disguise. "See Luke?" she asked, fearful with hope.

"Yes, only for a little while. Doubtless his mind's a mess from all the excitement as well."

"Emperor Skywalker does amazingly well under pressure."

"Former emperor, if you pleased. Lord Skywalker, or just Skywalker, but you will understand that I must insist that _I _am the new and rightful emperor now."

Mara wanted _so badly _to say, "Rightful in whose opinion?" But those were the snapping replies she'd given as a girl in the training of the Jedi, and they had gotten her into trouble numerous times. That would be fine, but right now they could get Luke into trouble, and that was unforgivable; he was depending on her now, surely he was!

"You would like to see Lord Skywalker?" Xizor asked, lavender eyes slit-ed.

Mara recollected her poise. "I would. Just let me get something to pull on over this, the evening's gotten cool."

"How pleasant to see you so practical in the face of all this."

_How pleasant_, she purred to the Force – that did not speak to such a lowly man as Xizor – grabbing a sweater, _when I will see you burning in Sith Hell._

"I'm ready to go," she whispered with the jacket on, and Xizor took her arm and made her skin crawl with disgust and hate.


	17. Chapter 17

**High Flying, Adored**

**Chapter Seventeen**

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. The basis of the situation belongs to history, but the interpretation is mine. Any biblical, theatrical, or literary references are to be blamed on the fact that I had a very good AP English teacher. No money is being made.

A.N.: No word on the play status yet, though I have talked to the producer. It's a waiting game. I'll be out of town for a while and then off to school in a couple weeks, so this might be the last update for a while. Hopefully I'll still update frequently, unlike last summer….

So now all your Luke/Force questions are answered. It also struck me last night, laying on my bunk (am now in my dorm) that it is truly a tragedy Han's not in this more. Sigh..

Thawn716: I can't seem to write anything for Star Wars but AU, probably because the possibilities are so endless, but I am SO flattered you liked it!

wAcKaMoLe911: Thanks for your continued support!

Madame Naberrie: I think you might love me forever for this.

ILDV: Hahah, thanks! Well, we'll see what happens to him.

SithKnight-Galen: Thanks! The next time I'm supposed to talk to the producer's a week from today, so I should know sometime soon.

Mara-the-Cat: Wow, everyone _really _hates Xizor. Thanks, so glad you're enjoying it!

GreenEyedCatDragon: That's the hope.

Jaded Imagery: Thank you!

FREAKSHOW1: You know, your pointing out the Ewan McGreggor/Alec Guiness thing actually made me more comfortable with Obi-Wan's dialogue in this. How weird is that? Glad you're enjoying this so much!

………………………………………………………………………………………

_Don't dream too far_

_Don't lose sight of who you are._

- Wicked

………………………………………………………………………………………

Mara actually had heard rumors there was a dungeon in the palace. Something built during Palpatine's rein, used less frequently during Vader's, and quite falling apart now that his son was in control. So she was scared Xizor was going to take her down, down, down to a dilapidated hole with breaking, damp tiles and dirt and rats and disease where life was short and dark and cruel and Luke would be beaten and slowly die.

Her heart had actually sped up when they'd gotten in the elevator and he pressed the button for one of the lowest levels. But when they stepped out, she realized they'd simply gone to where the speeders were.

She guessed that was a relief. Probably.

And he held open the door for her and directed the driver not to her second guess – that being Xizor's own, private palace (was he going to be living in the Imperial Palace now?) – but some other judiciary building entirely.

"That's where the courts are," she said stupidly, as if Xizor (who'd been living on Coruscant for the last fifteen years, albeit that was nothing to a Falleen) didn't know. "Why would you be keeping him in the courts?"

"We're not."

"The penitentiary here is only temporary and it's in a different building."

"Trust me, Master Jedi," he smirked. "I know where I am going and where your husband is."

Mara shot him hot looks with her green eyes. How in any level of Sith Hell was she supposed to trust a man like that?

So when they pulled up in front of where the ornate courthouse was and Emperor Xizor held open the door for her again, she was tightly wrapping the Force around herself and begging desperately for it to help her understand. They went up the one-hundred-something steps and she expected, when they went in the double doors, for them to go up the marble stairway that wound itself upwards in the hall like a curling snake; she was walking in this direction.

But Xizor grabbed her arm, for they were going down after all.

Down a little side door right next to the entrance she wasn't sure how she'd missed, and she guessed it wasn't worse than her imagination had made it out to be. The staircase down was kept up, and there were desks and lots of Black Sun soldiers down in the unused basement. As for the holding cells, they were both modern and dark aged – but so far she couldn't see Luke.

"You see," the lizard was saying smugly as his silk robe trailed along the stairs, "the Empire runs all sorts of government functions here but _I_ own the building. It's rented from me! Surprising, I know, but it really happens quite frequently. For another example, there's-"

"Where's Luke?" she interrupted him, rushing lightly down the stairs and looking almost frantically around; she saw the dozens upon dozens of laser bars that zigzagged across a great, boxy cage, and she saw the straw on the ground (why was the flooring straw?) but she did not see her husband. When Xizor – who was irked at not getting to finish – did not answer her immediately, she ran pleading to one of the emotionless guards and begged of him, "Where's Luke?"

The Falleen sighed. "The lady's anxious! Well. As I recall, Lord Skywalker was being given his ration pill for the night, should be out any minute."

"What's in it," she demanded, reeling on the cool alien and not trusting him to not slip poison in it.

"The essential vitamins, minerals, proteins, etc. I think you get the picture."

"I want to see him."

"You have no sense of patience, Lady Jade!" he exclaimed, quite playful. "What must the Jedi think of you?" He was purring that, and his lavender eyes bore into her in a cruel way, as if somehow knowing how much the subject might hurt her.

But Lord Skywalker was being led back into his holding cell from a back entrance, held with binders but looking all in one piece. "Luke!" Mara cried, running towards him and stopped by the electro-bars, but his head picked up and his eyes lit considerably.

"A visitor for you," Xizor growled, and he motioned for the guards to deactivate part of the grid and let the worried wife in.

Before Mara could help herself, as Skywalker's binders were removed, she'd thrown herself into his arms, embraced him tightly, and was checking him over for damage. Skywalker was too surprised to do anything but find his arms loosely wrap around her as she hurled a billion questions at him. "How are you? Have they hurt you? You didn't eat that pill they gave you, did you? Hold on, I'll try and feel if it's poisonous."

"Mara-" he was gasping.

She quickly rounded back on the Falleen, who was thoroughly amused by the show; Mara had turned around, but still had herself pressed so tightly against Skywalker that his arms still encircled her. "We want to talk to each other alone," she told Xizor matter-of-factly, business like and cool with a new source of strength to draw on. Or maybe to be strong for. "This is completely within our rights, and I've studied all the proper documents to indicate-"

"Of course," Xizor purred, incredibly entertained. "I understand. However," and here he motioned round the room. "This area is bugged and watched with video surveillance. So no conspiring to escape." Mara's cheeks flushed in irritation. "And before you ask, no, I won't turn these features off. So no pouting."

"We would like our time alone, Your Majesty, if you please." Luke's arms tightened around her and she felt sick for saying it in front of him. But she had to play the game! She had to get him out of there!

"Naturally." He smirked again. "Well, come, all, let us leave the lovebirds together. I have important business to attend to – where's Guri? – and – oh." He stopped and flashed his captives another glance. "The time will be limited, you understand, Lady Jade? We mustn't excite your husband too much. Bad for his health." He laughed within himself, collected his retinue, and left after that, allowing Mara to fuss over her husband again.

"What did they do to you?" she demanded, slumping down into the straw with him. "Anything broken?"

He laughed. "I can't believe you're here!"

"Luke, don't go delirious on me, just answer the questions."

"I cooperated, so they haven't hurt me. Force, Mara, what possessed you to come?"

"I have to see you," she said, surprised and almost hurt by his shock. They did not notice they were still holding onto each other, and given the topsy turvy world, anything solid to hang onto was good and they didn't care. "I'm the Republic Confederacy's representative, I have to come."

"That isn't why you have to come." And he looked at her with those fiercely blue eyes of his and her grip on his forearm tightened.

"Come on," she said. "Let's get out of here."

"Out of here? How do you propose to do that? The back door doesn't open except with DNA recognition, the front is surrounded by bars and you clearly don't have your lightsaber with you."

"Xizor wouldn't let me bring it."

"There you have it."

"So what!" she declared. "You think I learned nothing in the Temple? I'll bend the bars, we're good to go!"

"You can't," he sighed, leaning back against the damp, cold wall. "It's some sort of technological wonder, Force-resistant, they told me so. In case I got any screwy ideas."

God, the one time he couldn't be an optimist! "Well, who cares," she replied, pushing his hair automatically out of his eyes when it fell that way. "Lightsaber or no, I'll bet anything the guards are as weak minded as a baby bantha. And I learned mind tricks from the best, you should see Obi-Wan go! He could convince anyone of anything, even that their own shirt was a different color. I may not be quite up to his level, but I'm way more than good enough for these goons. We'll have them let us out and we're home free home!"

"Mara, we're defenseless."

"Moron," she affectionately and worriedly teased. "_They're _the defenseless ones. What can they do to two Force users?"

"_Two _Force users?"

Mara suddenly felt a pit in her stomach drop, felt the Force whirling around her and buzzing at her. Her green eyes were wide and confused. "You're…you're a Sith…" she muttered, feeling cold in his arms.

"What?" her husband said, truly perplexed. "You think I'm a-? Mara…no!"

She removed herself from his embrace and sat a marked distance away – so she could examine him better and because she felt hurt. "You're Darth Vader's son, you pop up in all sorts of prophecies. He took you from Obi-Wan because you'd be powerful and help him to rule the galaxy."

"That's not why he did it."

"It _is_," she insisted, arms automatically locking around herself as some sort of protection. "Master Yoda and Master Obi-Wan all know, he took you for your power to make you a Sith, they've always said that."

"Mara, listen to me."

"You're a Sith Lord, that's why you're the emperor."

"Mara."

"I can feel it, Luke, you're Force Sensitive, I can feel when it's there!"

"Good," he snapped, losing his patience. "Good, I'm glad you can. I'm glad you and Yoda and Obi-Wan and my father and the whole universe can feel it but me."

She stopped, dead silent, and stared at him with those wide, very green eyes. Luke's cold stare lost momentum and he sighed, blue eyes going soft again. "I can't use the Force, Mara Jade," he sighed, scooting closer to her as she scooted back again. "I never could."

"That's impossible."

"Don't talk, just listen," he whispered to her, taking her small hand so that she couldn't move back again. "Father meant to train me, he started to. But I was never any good at it. The potential is there, apparently, it must just be bubbling away and brimming over. But I never touched it. I never felt it. I couldn't do even the tiniest fraction of the things he could, and he let it go. By the time he gave up on my training, Palpatine was dead and he was changing how to rule a galaxy. He didn't want to be the same, you see," Luke was saying softly, eyes on her hand now to ease and comfort as he rubbed his thumb across her palm. "Palpatine was going to rule by Force and fear and brute strength. It wasn't right. So Father didn't do that so much. He couldn't just stop being a Sith Lord, of course. The Force was a drug for him and he was an addict." He looked up again, blue eyes hard and determined. "But not me." Mara's breath was quicker and shallower and as her husband's voice sank very soft, she came closer to him, trusted him slowly. "I wasn't going to use anything but my human soul to make an empire. I wasn't going to allow the Force to use me as a tool of tyranny."

"That isn't how it works."

"That's what everyone says. But it's a power, a power that can corrupt or be corrupted, and that is dangerous. Especially when ruling a people. I'm _not _a Sith, Mara," he begging-ly insisted; they were close again, not as much as before, but enough for it to be good. "I'm just an Imperial, I'm just the emperor. Or, I should be, if I weren't here with you right now." He paused and they stared into each other's eyes, very quiet. "Do you understand?"

The solemn quiet was broken by a noise outside the gate, and they moved closer together again; but Mara had dropped the subject, which somehow frightened her. She cleared her throat and held his hands in hers. "Xizor says he'll let you go," she said. "He won't make you stay here, but you'll have to leave Coruscant."

The true emperor's blue eyes (the eyes he shared with his father) widened. "Leave Coruscant?"

"He's willing to let you go to a private planet, well stocked, well protected, perfectly safe."

"I can't do that."

"But you can't come back to Coruscant again."

"That's exactly _why _I can't do that."

"Luke, think about it, please-"

"No," he stalwartly said. "No, I'm not going to do it. I'm the emperor. I don't care what he says he is, but _I _am the rightful emperor! What am I supposed to do, abandon my people?"

"Your people aren't going to get you out!" she cried, standing up and whacking the straw off herself in her anger at his selflessness. "They're not in here under threat of death with you."

"Mara, have you heard the holostats reports? The guards are playing them – what he's doing to the people is _wrong_."

"And what about what he's doing to you?" she demanded. "Sith Hell, Luke, he's been dogging me since this whole thing began, the man's insane, _and he's going to kill you if you stay here_."

"I have to take that chance."

"No, you don't! Stars!" She tugged at her hair and fought back tears, so utterly _frustrated_ by his pig-headed stubbornness. The man wouldn't listen! Not to reason, not to her, not to anyone! "Luke, what can I do to make you understand?"

"Mara," he soothed, very calm as the Force collected about her and told her to breathe. "Leaving would be wrong."

"But I can go with you." She trembled and stuttered when she said it, eyes brimming with tears, and it caught him off guard.

He tilted his head to the side, blinked a few times and decided, "That would be wrong, too."

"How! How would it be wrong!" she demanded, throwing herself back in the straw and wondering that at the great adventure, the romanticized-like-in-books moment of her life he wasn't even trying to hold her and thank her for her willingness to help. "I'm your wife, damn it, explain things to me."

"There are more people involved in this than just us," he said, gripping her arms (just her arms) and looking her straight in the eye as she seethed. "We have a responsibility to them to make sure Xizor won't hurt them; the people here on Coruscant and the Outer Rim…even the people in the Republic Confederacy, Mara." She growled inside herself to keep from crying in her fear. "They need us to be better than that."

After a long, quiet moment, she glared up at him with real hurt and demanded, "And what happens if you die?" Luke was still surprised by that and did not answer right away. "Will you be helping someone then, Luke Skywalker?"

He took a few breaths with an open mouth and thought about that for a moment before saying, "…well, better my dead body in tyranny's way than my complacency allowing it to happen."

"Oh, Force!" she growled, covering her eyes. "I could hate you!"

"Come, Mara," he sighed, pulling her against him. "It's hard right now, it's late, you're tired and upset. But let's be better than this."

"Don't touch me, you're not my father to be comforting me like that."

He ignored her tension and continued his grip about her, speaking softly until her muscles relaxed. "If you have so much faith in this Force of yours…then you must know things will be alright."

She looked up at him with red eyes finally and demanded, "What if the story doesn't end well this time? What if good doesn't conquer evil?"

He smiled sadly at her and pet her hair. "Well, up till now, you haven't really known who's on what team, have you?"

There was more noise outside and Xizor and the guards had returned. The Jedi's arms shot around her husband and she whispered fiercely, "I'm going to tell him I want to stay here."

"Shame on you, Mara Jade, you shall do no such thing," he murmured in her ear. "Obi-Wan would be appalled you said that."

"I don't care!"

"You're in a unique position," he told her as he helped her to stand up. "You can still talk with the people back home and me – all while keeping an eye on Xizor." The spark in his eye gave her courage and a little curiosity. "I know you'll use that to your advantage." On a whim, he kissed her forehead and said, "I know how strong you are. Watch out for my people for me."

"Time's up, Master Jedi," Xizor was purring at the gate as Luke gently pried his wife's fingers from the bend of his arm. "You can see your husband at some later date. Tomorrow, perhaps."

Her callow spite had come back with some courage – for Mara could fool the whole world and act brave around anyone…except Luke, at this moment. "Does Your Lordship allow for the possibility of a tomorrow?"

The Falleen sneered. "I see it's your charm that propagated this happy union. Well, come," he ordered, outstretching an arm to her, and she shot a parting glance at Luke, who nodded approvingly at her. She gulped, gathered the Force around her once more, and marched to the gate, muttering, "Emperor Xizor's generosity has been much appreciated."

"Oh, how glad I am to hear you say that!" he sighed, clapping his claw-like hands appreciatively. "I take it you'll be contacting your friends on Alderaan after we return?"

"I had planned on doing something like that, yes."

"Excellent. If, should your appreciation merit such, you could put in a good word for me with the princess…?" He gave her a knowing look with those lavender eyes of his, and she glared quickly and hatefully back.

An offer; her part as a pawn for Luke's promise as a person. How revolting.

She gave a small, sickly smile, deciding against replying.

………………………………………………………………………………………

_Mara had made a mistake. She'd waited too long to answer, and now Obi-Wan would make the answer for her. _

_"No," he sighed, "no, Mara, you must be very tired after such a big day, mustn't you?"_

_Oh, yes, Mara must, and she sensed this, feeling very sad as she cast a forlorn look at her possible first friend. "I guess so…"_

_"I thought so. Your Majesty's most kind offer is much appreciated," Obi-Wan said, bowing down to the little girl, who looked confused and hurt. "Perhaps at a different time." A nod to her mother. "Amidala."_

_Mara was turned and walked in the direction of the door – and the Temple, home – after that, and heard the lovely woman saying, "Why he-! Hush, Leia, don't cry. Sabé, watch Leia for me." Sabé must have agreed, for Mara heard the Nubian queen saying in a senatorial way, "Master Obi-Wan!"_

_She'd caught up with them, and some sort of harsh whispering began, snatches of which Mara caught. "She's a child, Obi-Wan, you can't lock her up like some kind of-"_

_"She's a child with a gift, that's just as dangerous as-"_

_"Ever since Anakin went wrong you're wary of everything. Well, you _can't _be. _She's just a little girl._ Does that make sense to you? Do you understand what I'm saying?"_

_"Padmé ."_

_"For Force's sake, if you let her have a piece of life, maybe she won't wonder so passionately about both worlds the way Anakin did. If the Jedi are going to have a more lenient stance, start with _her_. Let her be a girl, alright, Obi-Wan? Don't lock her up, she's a human first and a Jedi second."_

_Obi-Wan's jaw was very tense and his hand about his padawan's tightened. "That isn't how it works."_

_"That's how it's going to have to work. We've learned the last five years we _have _to change. The Old Republic has been thrown apart and the Jedi along with it. Mara," she smiled and bent down to her – the first notice she'd been given through the whole fight, "I only want to know what _you _want. Don't worry, Obi-Wan won't be mad."_

_When the redhead looked up at him in fearful wonder, he sighed and agreed, "I won't be, Mara, don't worry." No, he didn't have a temper, she believed him._

_"Do you want to spend the night with Leia?"_

_Mara's heartbeat fluttered, and – incapable of words – she nodded yes. The beautiful woman smiled and picked her up, about to carry her back to that opulent world that was like a dream to the apprenticed Jedi. "I'll bring her back to the Temple tomorrow, Obi-Wan."_

_"Master Yoda won't like this."_

_"Master Yoda never likes anything." _

_Mara had to think very careful through the Force to realize that Obi-Wan wasn't mad at all (very strange) and seemed nearly…amused! How weird. But as she looked at the high-held senator that was carrying her, she tucked away another lesson in her little mind; boldness conquers and fear cripples._


	18. Chapter 18

**High Flying, Adored**

**Chapter Eighteen**

Disclaimer: See chapter seventeen.

A.N.: Okay, guys. You're going to have to try and forgive me, because I had fifteen credits as a freshman, am going to take fourteen next semester and have been doing this:

Been enslaved by two of my friends in another fandom. I'm not kidding.

Editing my play. (It's going well and in a competition right now)

Turning it into a television script.

Trying to find an internship.

Applying for a summer job.

Learning to knit!

Making the Dean's List. Whoot!

Been enslaved by the wind ensemble. I'm still not kidding.

Dealing with emotional junk with friends and undergoing therapy (not fun)

But I have been slowly chipping away at this over the last five months; every time one of your far too generous author alerts or favorite's popped up in my inbox (and really, there are a surprising number of them, thank you so much!) I thought, "Yeah, need to work on that…." I feel terrible. This story is not dead, it will not end until I finish it, but you'll have to be patient with me – a lot more patient than I deserve for such devoted viewership. But I'm going to start yet another chapter for you tonight or tomorrow morning before my class, and since my lit class is easy right now, might have it finished by the weekend! I love you all very much and appreciate your support more than words can express and how I can prove worthy of it. My deepest devotion – Shadow131

(P.S.: Anyone hear about that new "The Force Unleashed," game? Looks kind of cool. Too bad I suck at video games)

Madame Naberrie: I'm glad this chapter worked so well for you!

Jaded Imagery: Hooray Sabé! (It rhymes!)

Mara-the-Cat: I am _so _sorry I've made you wait this long, in that case! But will Luke and Mara kiss at all? Is there a reason to? I'm so evil.

**Deja Know I Been Lookin For Vu: I'm actually terrible with plot, but somehow this story works. Thanks so much for your wonderful comments!**

ILDV: Ha! Wonderful remarks on Xizor and in general! Thank you very much.

GreenEyedCatDragon: It is a sad, sad thing, agreeably.

Encarna: I thought it was a good twist. Thank you!

Nana: Sorry this took so long!

FREAKSHOW1: Thank you for the alert!

………………………………………………………………………………………

_Here is a chance to take charge of our fate._

_Deep down you must know that tomorrow's too late._

_One rule of life we cannot rearrange:_

_The only thing constant is change._

- Jekyll and Hyde

………………………………………………………………………………………

_"Reckless you are, Mara Jade."_

_The story of the seven year-old's life. Master Yoda didn't trust her – never had – since she'd set foot on Alderaan two years ago. Everyone – _everyone! – _was calling Master Obi-Wan a fool for trying to introduce yet another too-old outsider into the prestigious Jedi Order._

_"Recklessness and anger," Master Yoda had snuffed. "Mistake, this is."_

_Initially, the Jedi had tried to quip he couldn't just send her back to Coruscant, but he'd given up such fruitless arguing. He was just tired and upset, the last ten years of his life had been hard. He needed to keep focused. _

_Anyway, there were other options. The Organas had a disgusting interest in the child. If they wanted to raise her so badly, why not let them take her? Perhaps they could curb the rebelliousness the old Jedi Master sensed in Jade, perhaps they could keep her from becoming a detriment to the piddling Confederacy/Rebellion._

_"So, give her up," another Jedi had told Kenobi. "You don't have any reason to keep her; she's as mean tempered as a cat."_

_"She's only a child."_

_"I've never known such a sore child in my life. Besides, after Anakin it's hard for you to maintain distance. You need to protect yourself."_

_What really infuriated the Jedi Master was that they talked about Mara when she was _standing right there! _The child would stand or sit next to his ankle and look up, as though she were too young to understand what they were saying (and somehow, the three Jedi of the Temple figured that at seven she just couldn't speak)._

_Naturally, Mara did hear them, and it made her act out in the most unusual of ways; she was prone to fits of a truly violent temper, once making a book fly across the room with the Force. Everyone sarcastically whistled that this was their predictions coming true…but Obi-Wan didn't think so._

_There was something…_therein_ his Padawan that made her what she was. Something had gotten damaged and he wondered what it was._

_And honestly, it sometimes frightened him half to death to think on the possibilities, considering her background._

_Sometimes she'd ask him the most awful questions when he was just trying to get her ready for bed._

_"Who is Anakin?" she'd asked once, and realized her mistake at her master's signature of emotion through the Force; her green eyes got very wide._

_"Mara…"_

_"Was she a pretty lady?"_

_"…No," Obi-Wan sighed, smiling slightly as he tried to brush her hair and she pushed his hands away; she didn't like it when he did that, her hair got tangled easily and it hurt. "No. But try not to ask questions like that."_

_"Why?"_

_"There is no why. Some questions are better left unasked."_

………………………………………………………………………………………

Xizor finally, _finally_, left her alone for the first time in that long, long night once they returned to the Imperial Palace and he escorted her to her quarters.

"I trust you will sleep well, Master Jedi," he'd purred, kissing her hand and making her sick. Xizor's stateliness, undercut by his graphic sexuality, reminded her of some disgusting thing she could not name. "And that I shall see you in the morning. Perhaps for breakfast?"

She'd bid him an excessively fond goodbye and took a very deep breath, feeling better than she had in the last few hours. She spent a good long time in the fresher, enjoying the warm water (for the Palace was actually given water to wash with) that was helping her to relax as she used the Force to regulate her breathing; overall, she felt a good deal calmer when all was said and done, and she logged onto her holonet connection with the vainest hope _someone _back home might be available!

So when she sent the alert wanting to give a holovid message, she was beyond thrilled when it was Master Obi-Wan who replied, the wavering blue color of his face appearing before her.

She thought she might be overcome just to see and hear him again – but she kept her composure, which was desperately needed.

"Thank the Force you're alright!" he immediately said, obviously having been worried.

"What's going on over there?" she asked, taking the link and moving to her bed with it, sitting it in the hollow of her crossed legs.

"That's a better question to ask of you, I think," replied the Jedi, giving a heavy sigh that made the sound briefly waver. "Or do you know? I imagine it's pandemonium over there."

"It is, but I finally got the update: Xizor's staged a coup." There was a long silence as the old man had to sit down, and she worried. "Master Obi-Wan?"

"No one wanted to believe it…"

"I know I certainly didn't."

"And? What of Luke?"

"He's alright – for now. They've arrested him and they're keeping him in the vilest – Force, Master Obi-Wan, I can't even describe it." She grew emotional. "It's so appalling."

"Relax," he reminded her, and Force bound about her once more. "Just tell me everything you know, Mara, straightforward. That will be easiest."

She told him of when the coup had occurred, Xizor's way of keeping her on a leash and his offer of exile for both she and Luke. Master Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow to that.

"Are you going to accept any of those terms?"

"Those are last resorts, so far as I'm concerned, Luke is the rightful emperor."

"This is so, but," he reminded, "the hands of the Republican Confederacy are tied in this matter. It would be foolish to intervene."

"Foolish!" she demanded, temper already beginning to skyrocket. "We _signed _the treaty."

"I know that, but the Senate won't see it that way. We're still an unstable force, they'll want to simply play ball with whomever the big dogs happen to be – Luke _or _Xizor."

"What you're saying is that you want me to go back on my written word for my planet to be there when the Empire needs us."

"I think what you're really saying is that you don't want to be forced to go back on your written word to be there for _him_ when he needs _you_."

Mara didn't have time to be flushed and embarrassed, simply pressing on. "You're damn right I don't! However it happened, Master, I'm his ally and he's my husband and I would be a very poor Jedi if I turned my back on him now."

"I understand your convictions, Mara," Kenobi sighed, clearly not wanting to argue it. "But it isn't up to me, if the Senate-"

"Xizor wants to make a new alliance," she interrupted. "He wants to marry Leia." There was very stunned silence on the part of the Jedi Master and Mara Jade allowed a good, long moment to allow that to sink in. "So there you go. I am fully of the conviction that if we _don't _give her to him, we _will _go back to war – but that's all the choice of the Senate, isn't it? Sacrifice the daughter of _two _ex-presidents, it isn't a hard decision, I think we should just-"

"Stop it, Mara, you're being spiteful."

Mara fell quiet since that was something she'd been accused of as a child. Obi-Wan was leaning back, lost in thought, and part of his face was obscured in a shadow, making it impossible for Mara to know what he was thinking.

"I'm not sure what Leia would do," he sighed after a long while. "I'm not even sure if she should be told. If some of the senators put her under pressure, she probably would agree to the alliance out of good for her people – but not out of good for herself, that's what worries me."

"Xizor might treasure her."

"Do you think he's capable of really loving her beyond selfishness?"

"No," Mara replied. "Never beyond selfishness. And Han would try and kill him straight off and just get killed himself."

That lightened the Jedi's mood somewhat, and he laughed. "Captain Solo would be slightly aggravated, given she was his fiancé first."

"So you see how impossible this situation is?" she begged, green eyes going wide. "We _must _come in on the side of Skywalker, there's no other way unless we want to be the lowest scum in the galaxy."

"I shall bring the topic up with Master Yoda," Obi-Wan said, gathering the folds of his robe about him. "But I cannot promise action. I cannot even promise an immediate response. _If _Yoda agrees that Xizor is worse than Skywalker-"

"He is!"

"-then he will approach the senators about it – but I don't think a majority of them will see this as a blow so much as a victory. I'll get back to you as soon as I know something, alright?"

"Alright," the girl replied, feeling her hands start to shake a little.

"May the Force be with you," was all Obi-Wan said before signing out.

Mara was finally finding herself completely alone – sans the Force which had just been willed to her – and her emotional breakdown began to happen. She was frightened and alone, the whole world seemed to be in danger, including her. She was too much a part of it and yet seemed helplessly cast to the side; she was in the position of needing to act – and entirely helpless to do anything.

It was the most frustrating, heartbreaking place she'd ever been in her life.

After the shaking came a bout of foolish tears before she forced herself into meditation…and finally into a very fitful sleep.

………………………………………………………………………………………

The options – neatly lined on a data pad. Mara studied them intently.

Luke could stay in prison, there to die, and the Republic Confederacy would be safe…temporarily.

Luke could be exiled.

_She _could be exiled with him.

The Republic Confederacy could come in on the side of the rightful emperor and…do what?

In any event, Leia would be pressured into a union with Xizor which presented other complications.

_If the Senate will not vote to restore Skywalker to power_, the Force seemed to ask her…_what will you do?_

_Your people or your husband?_

_Your country or your word?_

The Jedi or…?

Mara had been pondering all this the entire next day; she had not been allowed to see Luke. Xizor had come in to smooth talk her some more, admitted that now did not seem the best time to escort her to her husband (rowdy crowd, some problems at the prison cell, he had other affairs that needed his immediate attention, etc.) and he also asked about the princess Organa. Mara said she had heard she was well but that was all, and she wasn't actually sure if Leia was well or not.

Problems at the prison cell? She stretched out with the Force, felt Luke's strange, powerful, signature pattern….and he was safe.

Why couldn't he feel the Force? Why didn't this make any sense at all?

Well, frankly, right now nothing made sense, and she spent the day in agony, pacing back and forth in her room because she was afraid to leave her quarters.

_What a coward you are, Mara Jade_, she chided herself.

No word from Obi-Wan.

And that was the first day.

The next day was a little better since both Padmé Amidala and Bail Organa had come on the holonet to talk with and comfort her.

"Are you doing alright?"

"Is Luke alive?"

"Is the crowd incensed?"

It bothered Mara she only partially knew the answers and it bothered her she had little to tell them. She spent as many hours with whomever she could from back home because she found herself horribly lonely and afraid without them, and disliked this habit of crying she seemed to have gotten into. When they could not be with her, then the hours slipped quickly by in a slow eternity through meditation.

_If the Senate will not help your husband_, the Force asked her whenever she tried to meditate (it was being truly demanding on the subject), _who will you ally yourself with?_

Who?

The second day had passed and she was into the third – and still she had not seen Luke again and today Xizor had not bothered to come at all; she was getting more and more afraid. Overwhelmed, she sank to her knees and prayed aloud to the Force, "Just save him and the rest will fall back into place! I don't know how and I don't know why…but he is good."

She thought maybe it listened.

And she thought maybe all good things come to an end, she didn't know.

That was, truly, all of interest on the third day of the reign of Emperor Xizor I.


	19. Chapter 19

**High Flying, Adored**

**Chapter Nineteen**

Disclaimer: Lyrics copyright lyricists, characters copyright George Lucas and Timothy Zahn, story is all mine.

A.N.: You cannot _believe_ how much I've wanted to work on this thing since January! If it's not writing for friends or working for my multiple upper division courses, it's something else. It was my birthday recently, I've had no time to work on my play, my goodness my life is hectic. Now I'm back home working weekends and will be taking two classes next week. Yelch. Anyway, I'll send whatever time I've got towards this fic, but what I really ought to be doing right now is working on my play. Eh, oh well, I love this fic.

Does anyone else kind of miss Vader in this? He was a little kickass. Ah, well, had to happen.

Thought about making this a little longer and into more of a cliff-hanger, but dang it, you sweet people have been waiting for this update for so long, that would have been cruel. You can't imagine what all your patience means for me, I thank you very kindly. And now, review responses. Oh, reviews, how I do adore thee!

ILDV: Thank you for the continued support.

Encarna: All your speculating is extremely interesting and thought provoking. Han doesn't get much screen-time in this, so his reactions most certainly would be interesting.

Jaded-Skywalker: Thank you for assuring me of your continued readership! It is extremely valued.

Mara-the-Cat: Ha, thanks for the sweet review. Real crazy college is over for the summer, but I'm taking two community college classes, so for a two and a half week period, I be up by seven every morning and going all day long. Sucks. But after that I go back to my regular school and am taking mostly P.E. courses, so hopefully updates can be more frequent!

SithKnight-Galen: Yet more good speculating, though knowing politicians Mara should not be too hopeful.

FairyVampire: Thank you, I hope so too.

Mary Sue's Ugly BFF: Points to you for historical context! (Showers you with points)

Deja Know I Been Lookin For...: Flu sucks. I had an outer ear infection over Thanksgiving. If that makes you feel slightly better.

FREAKSHOW1: Oh, we can only hope.

Madame Naberrie: Thanks for the continued viewership!

MadisonMadineJK: Sorry it took so long…

InsanePen: I don't want to ruin the surprise, but Rogue Squadron may be making a guest appearance, yes.

MKofGod: Thank you!

Raven E: Glad you enjoyed it.

………………………………………………………………………………………

_I don't want you to hurt_

_I don't want you to sink_

_But you know what I think?_

_I think you'll be fine!_

_Just hang on and you'll see_

_But don't make me wait till you do_

_To be happy with you_

_Will you listen to me?_

_No one can give you courage_

_No one can thicken your skin._

- The Last Five Years

………………………………………………………………………………………

On the fourth day, Mara had been about to go insane and _finally _resolved to act, with or without the Senate's approval.

She only had the courage, though, for small acts that the Senate played no part in anyway; she was going to go to Xizor and demand to see Skywalker.

The gathering of her courage to do this over the last three days, however, was entirely useless, for as soon as she had resolved herself in this direction, Xizor knocked upon her door.

She felt _enormously _irritated.

A cool and collected Mara Jade greeted His Most Sovereign Majesty when he knocked upon her door. The Jedi let him in but she did not offer him a chair (he took one anyway) as a small sign of her rebelliousness – that was what the last three days had amounted to, was not offering Emperor Xizor a chair.

"I'm sorry I have been unable to see you," sighed the Falleen with a purr, steepling his fingertips together, long nails pointing in odd directions. Mara said nothing and examined him warily. "I'm sure you understand how hard it is to get everything into a proper order right now."

"After such a sudden switch, yes." An unnecessary switch.

"My humblest apologies."

Mara stared at the floor and felt the lizard's lavender eyes on her. "It's nothing," she muttered, when, really, it was everything; she had no worse three days in living memory.

"Today, perhaps, you should like to see your deposed husband again?" he asked her, standing up and perusing the room somewhat. Mara glanced at him hopefully and then thought to herself that she'd disinfect anything he touched, he was that loathsome to her.

"That is very kind of Your Grace."

"I know!" he grinned, very pleased with himself. "It is! But that is the kind of ruler I am." A quick glance in her direction. "Pray tell, how is Princess Leia Organa?"

Mara stammered here, finding this the most uncomfortable subject out of any; she fiddled with her hands beneath the sleeves of her cassock and dug her toe into the floor, stuttering, "I…"

"I'm sure my angel is well," was all Xizor replied, not permitting a thought of any other possibility. "We shall have a truly great empire, once everything's in order!" His attention turned back to Mara again, and he approached her once more, tail dragging on the ground with a soft swishing noise that made the girl shudder. "Have you thought on any of my offers for Skywalker's life?"

She looked at him from the corner of her green eyes and still felt the cloying presence of fear about her. She clung to the Force for strength. "I have, My Lord." He raised an eyebrow and she pressed on before he could make a decision for her. "I cannot make a choice at this time, you understand, until I have talked more with the Senate and the Jedi Council back home."

"Understandable," he growled, not liking that answer, but resigning himself to it nevertheless. He offered the Jedi girl his arm, which she reluctantly took and grumbled, "Well, no sense wasting time. We'll go see Skywalker."

………………………………………………………………………………………

_The Jedi was in total shock._

_Not possible._

_Totally not possible._

_"Are…are you sure?" he stammered, arms trembling at the very _idea _of such a horror being perpetuated on a little girl like his little Mara Jade._

_The Jedi apprentice was in another room, practicing balancing stones with the Force the way Master Yoda had taught her; Obi-Wan, self-same Yoda and the doctor were all together just barely out of ear shot._

_"Are you sure?" he asked again, shooting terrified looks to Mara through the door._

_"Busy, she is," reassured Yoda, who was taking the news very quietly. "She will not hear."_

_"I am as certain as the evidence can make me, Master Jedi," the doctor was saying, offering his slides. "Based on the scarring from trauma in these locations-"_

_"I don't want to see them," Obi-Wan said, raising his hands so that he could not accept the holo-slide photos. "I do not want to see that."_

_The doctor hesitated and bit his lip. "Understandably so, I…" No one was saying anything. "Of course, it could be _anything_, Master Jedi, there's no reason to assume-"_

_"Enough of your time we have taken," Yoda interrupted. "Thank you, we do."_

_The doctor paused again and bowed deeply and nervously before both the esteemed Jedi Masters, casting anxious looks at Mara before leaving the Temple compound._

_And no one was saying anything at all._

_The trouble had started innocently enough; Mara had been allowed to play with Leia one morning, who was being watched by Captain Antilles. Good with children, they'd been having a marvelous time, the little girls squealing with glee, when the captain had gone to tickle them fiercely. With Leia it had been fine – with _Mara_, though, Force, with Mara…_

_She'd let out a piercing shriek of terror, not of mirth, taken off from Antilles' grip as fast as she could, and clung trembling to the hem of her master's cassock._

_Both Obi-Wan and Captain Antilles were in shock, Leia sat quietly to the side aware that the game was over, and Mara _radiated terror_ through the Force._

_"I…" the captain tried to apologize, unsure of what he'd done wrong. "I didn't think I was…"_

_"It can't be you," Obi-Wan assured, just as shocked about this erratic behavior of an otherwise bold little girl, and had taken her to Master Yoda._

_He wouldn't have called that a mistake, but it certainly hadn't delivered the answers he wanted to hear._

………………………………………………………………………………………

The dungeon-esque hole Mara sank back into when she went to see her husband again horrified her as much as the first time; after four days and with the whole world still in chaos, no effort to improve the former emperor's quarters had been made and, Mara thought, even if the world weren't in chaos there wouldn't have been any attempts anyway. That, she was beginning to see, was how the world operated under the Falleen's clawed hand.

And to think, not even a year ago on her wedding day she'd thought so admirably of then Prince Xizor.

_I'm beginning to find out_, she whispered to herself and to the Force_, I have never been so intelligent as I always thought I was. I suppose that itself is the beginning of real knowledge_.

This philosophical train of thought was cut short when Xizor had led her all the way up to the barred, dirty cage that was her husband's new home – the one roomed, straw covered hovel. Mara shuddered to look at it, and her green eyes filled with pain to see the pathetic figure of her glorious husband crouched against the wall, head slumped over his chest. She rushed in as soon as the bars were deactivated and threw angry looks at the tyrant, who watched her coolly as ever.

Luke was clearly ill; his skin was pale and sallow, clammy to the touch, and his eyes hung in dark pits on his face. He was sleeping when Mara entered, and she placed a hand upon his forehead – for certain feverish. She angrily snapped at the dictator who looked on with a superior smirk, "How long has he been like this?"

"I could not say."

"And the last time he had a bath?"

"Yesterday, I'm told."

"This treatment is inhumane!" she stormed, stomping to the bars and radiating her uncontrollable anger. There were reasons Yoda had always muttered she was rife for turning Sith. "In any situation, if the Medical Alliance were to hear of this-"

"I dare you to call in any of your precious humanitarian organizations," Xizor purred, calm as a breeze. "I sincerely dare you. See what it gets you."

Mara fumed and tried to think of what to say next, but she was too mad to speak properly. It didn't matter, though, for Luke was stirring awake, and gave a small cough and groaned her name in small surprise. Mara Jade completely abandoned all her anger and, with touching maternity, had rushed to hover about the ill and ruined man. Xizor smirked again and left them alone while Mara busily brushed back the greasy, matted blond hair, green eyes wide with worry. "Hi," he smiled at her, genuinely glad to see her and voice a little weak.

"Are you alright?" she asked, voice soft. Luke chuckled at her behavior, for even trussed up in her wedding gown Mara had never behaved in a manner that anyone might call feminine. She radiated compassion now, and it was a state he'd never seen her in before.

"I'm fine," assured the man before a hacking, rattling cough echoed heavily through the room. Mara's hair stood on end and she put an arm around him, heart pounding in fear. "I know – I sound awful," he continued when the rattle in his chest had been slightly quieted, "but it's really not as bad as it sounds."

"Not yet," she muttered, very gloomy in comparison to his sunny demeanor. "Hold still," she whispered, wrapping him in her arms in what just seemed like an intimate embrace. It therefore surprised Skywalker, but he relaxed into it and let her lean her pretty head upon his still rattling chest when he felt a warmth pervading him – coming from her.

"That feels very nice," he sighed, his arms falling around her, too, and his slightly dirty cheek resting on the top of her red head.

"It's Force healing," she told him, eyes still closed and focused. "It's basic Jedi training."

"A very handy skill."

"I can't cure whatever it is you have-" she shuddered to think on what it might be in this dark and dank environment. "-but I can at least make you feel a little better."

"I thank you, I'll miss it when you're gone." Nobody said anything for a minute and he calmly remarked, "I'll miss you when you're gone."

Mara could not handle touching emotions at the moment, it would have totally destroyed her, so instead she growled, "Shut up," and checked his pulse. The true emperor gave a sickly chuckle.

"You're not sugar and spice and everything nice."

"Well, you're not a Sith," she returned, as if it were supposed to be a stinging insult. "You wouldn't be in this situation if you were, and you wouldn't need me to Force heal you."

"I guess I'm sorry for not embodying all the evil of the galaxy?" he awkwardly replied, and Mara sat back on her heels, just watching him for a moment.

"I got in touch with Master Obi-Wan back home," she said, and when he would have just as soon argued with her on only calling Alderaan home, Mara had more important business matters to take care of. "We'll have the senators see it our way before long, you don't have to worry."

"Who's worried?"

"I know Senator Amidala will agree at the very least, she and Senator Organa both. They carry a lot of voice in the Senate; if they speak, the people will listen."

"That is certainly the hope, isn't it?"

They sat quietly like that for a minute, Luke resting his head against the cold, grey brick wall and Mara examining him, balancing her weight on the back of her heels as she crouched down before him. Luke finally smiled at her a little. "You look concerned, Master Jedi."

Mara could feel her private, interior mess threaten to boil over, and a note in her husband's voice made her want to bury herself in his arms and cry her eyes out. For any other wife it would have been acceptable, even in these incredible circumstances, but Mara could not bring herself to do such a thing. For one, she was afraid it would make him worry, the last thing he needed to do in his position. But more importantly, it would have ruined her pride – not necessarily a bad thing, but now was not the proper time for it.

"I'm going to get you out of here, Luke," she promised, and he smiled, for it was the first time she'd said the way a wife does for a husband.

He coughed a little, shoulders heaving and chest aching, and gave the dry and rattling reply of, "Yes, I know."


	20. Chapter 20

**High Flying, Adored**

**Chapter Twenty**

Disclaimer: See Chapter Nineteen

A.N.: Trying to get updates out there as quickly as possible, we'll see how well I do. Just another reminder that this fic will not be abandoned, so never fear!

Skykhanhunter: Thank you.

DaniL: Thanks!

FREAKSHOW1: As always, your comments make me smile.

Deja Know I Been Lookin For..: Thanks for the continued support.

PhantomKnight88: Thank you very much, and don't worry, it may take time, but I will be finishing this thing.

SithKnight-Galen: As usual, all of your questions are interesting and insightful, and, as usual, I am baffled that I have no answer for them. Points to you.

JadeTakashi: The initial purpose of the flashbacks was to explain how everyone got to where they are today, and currently are just teasers to keep people interested for the finishing hook, though I don't believe there will be any more flashbacks coming up. I could be wrong, but I don't believe so.

ILDV: Thank you.

………………………………………………………………………………………

_Oh valorous knight,_

_Go and fight for the right,_

_And battle all villains that be._

- Man of La Mancha

………………………………………………………………………………………

Mara was unsure of how long the visit had lasted; it could have been a very long time, and yet only seemed to be a few minutes. Or it could have been the opposite. Jade had been in the uncomfortable position that many find themselves in when faced with the parting of loved ones: she wanted to get out of there quickly, and yet did not want to leave the real emperor alone. It was a hard spot to exist in.

Nonetheless, she was back in the Imperial Palace once more. Xizor had driven back with her and she had tilted her head so that it rested on her shoulder, eyes gazing vaguely out the window and away from him – her whole body posture shut him out, and they did not speak a word, though initially the Falleen had tried to strike up some conversation. It had not worked.

She had strongly wished to crawl into bed and sleep off this nightmare of a moment, but she felt obligated to make some half-hearted attempt at contacting Obi-Wan. Thus thinking, she snuggled deep into the warmth of her sheets on the bed, crossed her legs and pulled the vid-link into the hollow that they made there on the bed. A few buttons pressed, and to her surprise, there was her Master; the tears began pooling in her eyes to see the old and comfortingly familiar face once more, and Kenobi privately thought to himself that he had never seen Mara so tired and drawn and haggard looking before.

"Oh dear, Mara," was therefore his first remark, and not hello. "I'm afraid this has been very trying for you, hasn't it?"

"Nevermind that," she croaked, clearing the tears from her being and regaining composure. "What has the Senate decided?" The Jedi Master said nothing, biting his lower lip for a moment and refolding his hands within the long sleeves of his cassock. "Master Obi-Wan, what did they say?" she demanded, eyes widening and sitting up straight; she no longer felt tired, she felt a fear coursing through her veins, and a white hot anger in mere anticipation.

"The Senate…" Obi-Wan perused the subject. "…are, thus far, leaning on the position that it was Skywalker's father who started the war-"

"It was Skywalker who ended it!"

"-and therefore he never really could be solidly trusted as an ally, and they are inclined to think-"

"No!" she screamed, burying her hands into her hair and pulling at the strong red locks. "Darth Vader has nothing to do with this!" She shook in her rage. "He is dead, Force damn it-"

"Mara, your language."

"He is dead! This is not the time to cling to old prejudices and decide on what to do based on who one's ancestors were! We are supposed to be a republic, we're supposed to be…" The Force overcame her in one great wave and she bit off her venomous words, shuddering ceasing as she forced the outrage out of her body. "Fine," she snapped, viciously angry. "What about Leia then?"

Obi-Wan gave a deep sigh, knowing that any sort of tame discussion was now impossible. "They have declined to discuss that at the moment."

The rage all returned, and Mara could feel the Dark Side teaming around her, pulsating and deep, and she did not _care _that Master Yoda would look upon her the next time he saw her, cluck his tongue and mutter it had only been a matter of time before she would be touched and corrupted. "These are not separate issues!" She could not keep the shriek out of her voice and she was pounding her fist fiercely onto the bed, making the image shake. "They cannot discuss one without the other, they _cannot_ pick and chose! If we allow _Emperor Skywalker_ – who is there legally – to be overthrown, we _will have _to give Leia to Xizor – who staged a coup and overthrew _the most popular ruler in a century_. Oh, God!" she cried once more, and folded her arms over her knees, buried her face in them, and began to cry – her patience had run out for the day and her nerves were snapped and broken.

Obi-Wan sat their quietly and patiently for five minutes while Mara got the hysterics out of her system. It had been a trying week for her, and a healthy release of emotion with no real bad consequences would benefit her enormously and make her feel worlds better. At last, when her calm and rationale seemed to be returning to her, he gently chided, "Now, Mara…"

"I'm sorry," she replied in a broken voice, wiping her running nose with the sleeve of her tunic. "I'm just so outraged."

"I can understand that."

"Master Obi-Wan, they can't-"

"I will do something," he swore with a note of fierce paternalism buried deep within his voice. "I promise you, I will."

"I _hate _the Senate," the redhead seethed, turning her face from the vid-link and staring hard at the wall of her bedroom.

"Mara."

"I do, I hate them," she swore, unrepentant, and Obi-Wan sighed; there were ways that Mara made a very poor Jedi. She felt too much too passionately to really ever be calm and objective.

Anakin had been much the same. But at least with Mara he knew – provided Skywalker lived and continued to be her spouse – there was always someone there to exercise a calmer and more rational influence upon her. He'd gotten that from Padmé.

Yes, yes, they chided Luke for a father he could not change and would not, given the opportunity, but no one ever considered who his mother was, and she was one of the best women in the galaxy. They liked to ignore that.

He could understand why Mara now held such a vehement loathing for the politicians she felt had betrayed Luke, and through him, betrayed her.

The week could not get much worse, he figured.

"I am going to speak with Master Yoda again, along with all the Organas," he gently spoke, seeing and feeling the tension and anger melt out of his former Padawan.

"Thank you," Mara whispered. She was calm again because the Light Side of the Force had reclaimed her and gently reminded her of who she was and what she must do – and because she at last had an idea and felt she had some power over her situation; feeling in control can heal many a wound.

"Will I speak with you tomorrow?"

"If we all live till then," she nodded, green eyes closed as she felt the great desire to slip into a state of meditation and feel like a proper Jedi again. "I look forward to it."

"Hang on," Obi-Wan encouraged. "One way or another, all of this will end soon." Mara nodded again and he signed off with, "May the Force be with you, Mara Jade."

The Jedi took long and deep breaths after that, regaining her composure and at last feeling sure of herself. She spent a few minutes meditating and brushed her hair out of her face and smiled for the first time in a long while. With a quick sigh, she resettled the vid-link on her lap and pressed a few buttons.

The voice came on before the picture, and a groggy Wedge Antilles muttered, "Hello?"

"Haven't heard from you in a while, flyboy, haven't you missed me?"

"Mara?" There was some cursing as the picture came on and a light sputtered behind the half-asleep young man; he had turned on a lamp and was examining his chrono. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"In Standard Hours?"

"Frag off."

"Language," she chided the same way Obi-Wan had half an hour ago. "Listen, I'm sure you've heard of the spot of trouble I'm in…"

"Sure have," he muttered, coming awake and voice more sympathetic. "All the Rogue Squadron guys have been worried sick about you."

"I was hoping you'd say that," she said, a little more nervous now and wringing her hands. "See, the problem is I don't think the Senate is going to be much help."

"Never is."

"And I have no one else to turn to, Wedge."

Mara knew the right way to ask, but she was also asking the right person, as Antilles was a genuinely good and kind person. "What is it you need, baby girl?" he asked, using the name she usually hated as he began to mentally wake up.

"Well…if you Rogue Squadron boys were getting at all bored now that there's no war and all…I have something you could do."

………………………………………………………………………………………

There was an attempt on the life of Emperor Xizor's new press secretary. Nobody was surprised – the regime was still topsy turvy, so violence and assassination attempts were to be expected – but Mara was actually rather pleased about the event; not for any malicious purpose, mind, but because it gave her the opportunity she had so desperately needed.

Emperor Xizor I had been reigning for a good week now, and it was not to his credit that he still didn't have things under control. But Mara Jade approached him in the throne chamber that she had once sat in with her husband when he would allow audiences with lobbyists, and kneeled low on the marble floor before him. The action pleased His Majesty, and he curled his long fingers as he asked, "What is it you wished to see me about, Lady Jade?"

"I only wished to inform Your Grace that, times being what they are, I've hired a personal guard service for myself."

The trick worked – Xizor was not alarmed. "There was no need for that, Master Jedi," he scolded softly. "I can assure you that you are perfectly safe so long as you are under my control."

"I am well aware, sir," she agreed, still kneeling, which she _loathed_. "But I thought it a necessary precaution, just to be safe. And this way your mind will not be troubled with thoughts of my safety."

"How thoughtful of you," he agreed, and they exchanged more small banter before he dismissed her again, assuring her she would see her husband that night.

The unprepossessing ship had landed early that morning around 0530, but the Rogue Squadron men turned men-in-arms for Her Former Majesty were very awake. Wedge, Wes, Tank, Hobbie, all the rest were quiet and professional, no longer looking like fighter pilots but instead like a real final defense for Mara Jade – with impressive firearms, too. They wore matching but non-distracting outfits and dark glasses and looked entirely unapproachable. Alone with their charge, of course, it was entirely different, and everything was the smiles and laughter it had been throughout their time fighting for Republican independence together.

But today the smiles were a touch more nervous than before, and the jitters seemed to affect Mara most heavily of all.

"Everyone's clear on what we're doing?"

"Sure are," assured Wedge. "Wes saw that the information leaked shortly after our arrival and we mapped out several escape routes if something goes wrong."

"Nothing is going to go wrong," Mara asserted. "If it does, I stay and you go."

"Like hell-"

"No, this is something that I have to do. If we screw this up, there will be fallout, and if I don't take the fallout, Luke – Skywalker – the Emperor….he will."

"Right…" Wedged mouthed around a spicestick he'd stuck into his mouth but had not – and probably would not – lit. "Being a hero, then?"

"Being practical."

"No, practical is letting him take the fall and going back and being a Jedi like you wanted to be."

Mara stuttered and stumbled over that for quite some time. "Well…things have changed."

………………………………………………………………………………………

_Therapy had not worked. Master Yoda, of course, had scoffed at therapy and declared that every Jedi had their problems and it was pointless to coddle young Jade by making her thing otherwise._

_Padmé , of course, had been the one to insist. Obi-Wan had not wanted to tell her, but after she had become so involved in the girl's life, it was rather impossible to keep secrets involving Mara from Amidala Skywalker Organa._

_"Mara needs help. _Stop _treating her like a machine and treat her like a child," she demanded of Obi-Wan, who bashfully insisted on therapy to the ancient Jedi Master Yoda._

_But it hadn't worked. Mara was just the same as she was before; aloof, vicious, defensive…hysterical at being grabbed or touched by people she didn't know._

_If anything, therapy bringing the issue to light just made everything worse. She was too young to deal with the trauma properly and instead had flung some rather heavy objects out the door using the Force when she just could not take it anymore._

_So Yoda had proposed this alternative. Obi-Wan didn't really like it, and he did protest. "It's…it's rather like tampering with her free-will, though, Master." When there was no response, he insisted, "Mara _can _deal with the issues of her past if we give her time and support to grow up and confront them-"_

_"If that we do, never shall she be a Jedi." There was a silence, and Obi-Wan could not find a response to that. "Conquer her demons, yes. Become Jedi, no. She cannot do both, there is no time and it would distract from her training. Never would she be a Jedi."_

_But still, it didn't seem _right_, somehow. Kenobi wished very fervently he had some kind of power to protest, but even Amidala couldn't find a proper argument against Yoda. In the end, it had all come down to Kenobi and Mara Jade, one of the few people the little girl trusted. Sometimes the Jedi was jealous of Padmé's connection with her, just because it seemed stronger than his own, which should not happen with Padawan. And that was the sort of thing that had doomed Anakin. But he'd grown out of that and realized that, more than anyone, Mara really needed him._

_And right now what she needed was him to make the right decisions for _her_._

_Nobody had ever said that parenting was easy. _

_"Mara, do you want to grow up to be a Jedi?" he knelt down and asked her, softly stroking her red hair._

_The little girl looked at him and nodded, for she had never been presented with different options. "Yes, Master Obi-Wan."_

_Well, that settled that. Yoda was going to go through with his decision and impress more heavily upon her the ways of the Jedi. It would be good, he insisted, for Jade otherwise showed too much potential to stray._

_It felt wrong in Obi-Wan's gut, and he could not stop it._

_And on a quiet day in the newly built Jedi Temple, Yoda crept stealthily with the Force through the little initiate's mind, put what was bad into a little figurative black box where she would not have to reach it much, and reinforced the Jedi Way._

_It was exhausting for Mara and she slept out the rest of the day and Obi-Wan spent that time meditating in penitence, and begged the Force to forgive him if he'd done wrong, and help him to know what was right._


	21. Chapter 21

**High Flying, Adored**

**Chapter Twenty One**

Disclaimer: It is a good assumption to make that nothing but the plot belongs to me, but a better one that only the details of the plot do, because it's rather easy and expectable to re-use a plot.

A.N.: Doing pretty well churning out these updates, aren't I? All you LM shippers out there are going to _love _this. As a warning, unless I can crank something out after work this weekend, updates may not come for a while as I start summer classes this Monday; for two and a half weeks, it's four days of class and then three days of work until they hire someone else, but after that I'll only have one class and hopefully only two days of work, so it should be okay.

Mary Sue's Ugly BFF: I hope this satisfies.

SithKnight-Galen: If I answered your questions, that would just ruin it for everyone and that wouldn't be fair!

JadeTakashi: I agree that Yoda, in his old age, has a lot to learn.

Deja Know I Been Lookin For...: I'm really glad you enjoyed it!

ILDV: No kidding.

Jaded-Skywalker: Really glad you're liking the stuff!

FREAKSHOW1: Oh, I don't trust that Yoda knows what he's doing at all.

………………………………………………………………………………………

_You were just a backstreet girl_

_Hustling and fighting_

_Scratching and biting_

_High flying, adored_

_Did you believe in your wildest moments_

_All this would be yours?_

_That you'd become the lady of them all?_

_Were there stars in your eyes_

_When you crawled in at night?_

_From the bars, from the sidewalks_

_From the gutter theatricals?_

_Don't look down,_

_It's a long, long way to fall._

- Evita

………………………………………………………………………………………

When Xizor offered Mara another chance to see her husband the day after her coterie had arrived, she agreed, but offered to take her own speeder. "Separate cars will keep Your Majesty safer," she insisted, and he gave her cheek a pat and told her what a good and smart girl she was.

"Skywalker must be infinitely pleased to have such a clever and devoted, yet sensible, wife."

Her guard service was dressed in black, with dark glasses, impressive guns cradled in the hollow of their arms, and Mara was slid in between Tycho and Hobbie, with Wedge and Wes sitting across. "You ready for this?" Antilles asked her.

"As ready as I'm gonna be. Do you all remember where you're supposed to be?"

"You bet. And Wes and I will have blasters at the ready in case anyone gets any ideas."

"I'm a Jedi, I'm the last person whose safety you need to be concerned with." She looked briefly out the tinted window at the Coruscant city-scape, hands fidgeting as she fought the butterflies in her stomach; she'd opted for a long, black robe – not a Jedi's robe, but something feminine and mildly dressy. She wanted to appear accessible to the people today, and since Luke was always and forever wearing black, she thought maybe they'd associate her with him.

She _hoped _they'd associate her with him.

She needed that very badly.

Her hands looped in and out of the long, flowing sleeves as she took deep, quick breaths every so often; Mara Jade was nervous.

Wes examined her from across the stretch-speeder. "We're not going to screw this up," he assured her, and she shook her head, green eyes closed.

"I know you guys won't, I'm not worried about that. I'm worried _I'll _mess something up."

"We're here," was all Tycho said, and the speeder ground to a halt. Everyone stared at Mara, whose eyes were closed as she took one final steadying breath, and the door was opened.

It was…a little more than the Rogues had expected, certainly more than Mara had expected; it took a while to open the door because so many bodies were pressed against the car, having no place else to expand into. The crowd of people gathered outside the judiciary building was _incredible_. And as soon as the harried citizens of Coruscant realized it was their former emperor's wife who was emerging, loud whispers went up and passed through the whole crowd.

"How many of them you think there are?" Hobbie asked of Wedge through gritted teeth as he shouldered and elbowed a path for himself and his charge.

"Hundred thousand, maybe more."

"A hundred thousand!"

"Keep your voice down." Not that it mattered, it was difficult to hear in this throng.

Upon reaching the top of the tall, steep steps, Mara turned back only briefly to see the gathered crowd; they were being kept off the steps by a combination of Xizor's Black Sun forces and very irritated looking Imperials. They didn't want to be there, Mara felt. They didn't like this any more than the people hurling obscenities at them, and from the holes in the ranks, a handful had already defected.

Xizor appeared at her elbow at the top of the staircase, only minutely harried. "Quite the throng of admirers, wouldn't you say?"

He'd startled her a little, and she wheeled to him, eyes blinking rapidly. "Where did they all come from?"

"From every hole a beast can crawl out of," he drawled, not impressed with the "rabble," that was shouting for Luke Skywalker. And oh, Luke would never have called them a rabble. Mara could see in her mind's eye his broad and sweet grin, the way his arms would open up as at the funeral service as if he were embracing all of them, as if they were his children. Which is exactly what he would have called them, with a look on his face as to give each of them – from the lowest, dirtiest and most rotted beggar upwards – a kiss. "Come, Lady Jade, let us to your husband."

Mara considered taking his arm as she usually did to appease him, but catching a look at the crowd from her peripheral vision, she decided that would be a mistake, and instead walked as straight and as tall as she was able with crippling butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

She closed her eyes when they descended into that dark, dank hole in the wall, for she needed all of her strength at this critical moment. She kept them closed, in fact, until she was led into the hovel they were keeping her husband in.

That was when her pale face became green with horror.

Luke was huddled in a ball, seriously ill, and when she cried his name and ran to him, he did not make any response. Mara's gentle and scarred hands felt his sweating forehead and had to draw quickly away again from the burning hot fever he was suffering. Her green eyes were very wide, and she turned with fear to Xizor, saying nothing. He just looked on and smirked, and was equally silent. Robbed of a voice, she began to make pathetic whimperings and pleadings of, "No, no, Luke!" She touched him, and willed every ounce of the healing Force she could reach into his frail and suffering body, begged, prayed, wanted him to continue to live – and when it was apparent she had done all she could (however little that was), she let two little tears slip from her eyes and bit her red lip. If Luke did not have a doctor within six hours, she did not think he would live.

She looked back up at Xizor again.

He raised one reptilian eyebrow at her and said, "You still haven't given me your answer, Lady Jade. Surely your Senate cannot be taking so long to deliberate as this." That was why he'd had no medical attention for a simple little disease, for something that should not have gotten so out of control as this.It was blackmail, and Luke the bait.

"You haven't worked in a democratic society," she growled at him, cradling her husband fiercely against her, who seemed to revive slightly and pleaded her name and that of his father the way a sick child would its mother. "You'd be surprised." A couple more renegade tears escaped her eyes, and she brushed the disgusting, dingy blond hair from the sweating forehead of the man she'd sworn to help. The man dying Darth Vader had begged her to, what was it he'd said, sail into fire for?

_A Jedi ought to keep their promise_.

"If you are still alive when all this foolishness is done," she whispered in the sick man's ear, "if I haven't gotten you killed…I will go with you."

Forcing the last of the tears from her eyes, Mara looked _defiantly _up at her captor, who looked expectantly and smugly down at her. The Jedi carefully lay her ally back down in the mucky straw and gently rose to her feet, prepared to follow the pretender emperor back out again. "I promise you, My Lord, you will have a response on what I plan to do by the end of the night."

"And Princess Leia?"

"I will force that issue as much as I'm able."

"Wonderful!" Xizor grinned, clapping his long, bony hands together as they ascended the basement steps and walked out into the growing gloom of dusk in the heart of Coruscant. However, in the grand hall of the judiciary building, a dull roar came pouring through the cracks in the ornate doors, made the windows rattle in their settings, _buzzed _continually throughout the place. The pair and their retinue looked around with exceeding confusion, and Xizor at last ordered the doors opened.

The source of the noise was readily apparent.

The throng of worshipful followers of their rightful emperor had grown! It stretched out whole city blocks and then some, until it was double or even triple what Mara had seen a mere twenty minutes ago. She stood breathless, comforted that Wedge was still by her side and glad to see Hobbie standing at the top of the stairs. Mara took a few hesitating steps towards the throng, which moved and pulsated like a knot of bees, and was actually a little afraid – not of them, but by their sheer magnitude. Xizor had a fierce scowl on his face, but paid the irritant no more mind than that.

The Falleen was preparing to walk down the grand steps. Mara was waiting a painful eternity for the signal to come.

All at once, there it was, and she could almost pick out the solitary voice of Wes Janson in that sea of people as he yelled at the top of his lungs, "Speech, speech!" And there, Tycho, taking up the chorus some hundred meters away: "We want to hear our Empress speak!"

Soon, the whole crowd, enough to populate a city of decent proportions that was not Coruscant, began to take the lyric up: "Let her speak!" "We want to hear her speak!" And then, in rhythmic, vibrating intensity, the low and guttural, "Speech, speech, speech," chanted low by two hundred thousand voices until she was certain the noise could be heard thousands of kilometers away. She looked first at Xizor, who was still not entirely pleased, but waved her on patronizingly with a look that read, "Keep it short and loyal to me." This she would have done, had she not caught site of Wedge pressing the comlink in his ear, eyebrows shooting up from under his dark glasses. Once more she felt sure they were undone, and looked imploringly at him, which he returned by mouthing the word, "Go."

This was her one shot. She had to use it.

Mara Jade Skywalker edged herself to the brink of the marble staircase so that her toes just poked over. She twisted her wedding ring around her finger and gathered her courage; on a mission for the Jedi, when facing Imperial troops, in any situation but this, she would have been the epitome of brave. But here it was difficult to keep from fleeing. Nonetheless, she was determined, and took a long, deep breath, just once shutting her eyes, and opening them with resolve written in their greenness.

"I…" she hesitated, letting the crowd fall to a hush while a news crew handed her their microphone, for which she thanked them. "I am not a great speaker like my husband. I was not raised in politics, I am a Jedi. And for those familiar with the Order, we are mostly told to shut up in our early years." A spate of laughter, which she joined nervously. "I was born on this planet, spent my early life here. But I never felt any particular…connection to it, I never felt drawn to return here, or thought that these were my people and this my place.

"I…" Her throat felt extraordinarily tight, and she had to swallow multiple times to feel she could breathe properly. "Being raised a good Republican girl after the age of five, I believed that Imperialism was wrong and that Luke Skywalker, his father, and all they stood for, were devils." Xizor seemed pleased with this, but before a reproachful murmur could go up from the crowd, she continued. "But I was wrong." The new Emperor ceased to look pleased and Mara had to work very hard with her emotions and her words to keep going.

"Luke – my husband – he is so…_good_. I did not think so when I first arrived, I thought no man in the history of the world could play more sorely upon the people he governed. But now that I have spent a year by his side as of next week, I have come to find that there has been _no one_ in the history of my life and maybe of the universe that exercises greater selflessness, greater compassion, and greater love in the protection of his people." A great stillness had fallen over everything, so that even Xizor could not stop her, though he did want to. "Our most esteemed new Emperor Xizor says that he has removed Luke Skywalker from power because he was ruling with corruption and incompetence. I would like to here and now address those charges;

"If he is so _evil_ – as I thought, as glorious Emperor Xizor thinks – then _why _does he stay up sometimes all night, let his health take a secondary place, to personally oversee reforms in health service, in housing, in education – for his people and not for him! Why is that he pays for services as he paid for his father's funeral, out of his own pocket, running an empire at cost to himself, when he could run it on the backs of the poor, on the backs of his people. _Why _does he ignore his personal relationships, his wife, his friends, when the smallest problem is presented to him that some less worthy underling could manage very easily."

Mara bowed her head for a moment before she continued, a sob momentarily choking her voice. "By the grace of Lord Xizor, I was allowed to present him with the option of saving his own skin and spending the rest of his days in luxury and quiet in exile from the Empire, living out his days as any man might wish to do. And he said no. He refused because, he told me, he _could not _leave his people without a father, without someone who loves them, as he has always loved them. As he always will." She fought back her tears. "If he is so evil, why won't he go, Force, why won't he do – just once – what is best for him and not for his people?"

Mara could not stop her tears now, and buried her face in her hands for the moment, the tears slipping quietly between her fingers. The crowd, tender and maternal, pressed forward, forcing the guards off the steps (a notable number of the Imperials were now no place to be seen) in order to get at her. They surged in a quiet, comforting wave, Mara could feel each glittering presence in the living Force and it comforted her more than anything had in this last wretched week and a half. She took the hands from her face and stretched them out to the people as they closed in around her, a loud murmur among them for her to keep speaking. "I want my husband back," she told the crowd, green eyes full of compassion but emotions now under control. "As I am sure you want your Emperor."

She turned her head when she felt Wedge touching her elbow, and he gently led her down the long steps into the crowd, Hobbie trailing behind her. But a very curious thing was happening. People weren't parting as they had before to let her through. Instead, they were continuing to surge about her like a reverend goddess!

Housewives embraced her with matronly affection, stained her with the purity of their tears, kissed her cheeks and called her a wonderful woman, a wonderful wife. Funny, Mara had never _really _felt like a wife until that moment – until up there on the steps, when for half a moment she had a desperate and burning, aching need to feel her _husband's _arms around her, holding her close and making her feel _really _safe. There were few times in her life, she was discovering, when she'd felt so safe as when he'd held her for that brief instant when he'd been still healthy in the cell immediately after being deposed. Safe, yes, maybe, but not like that. She wanted that, she wanted to hear his voice whispering in her ear and have his lips-

Honest, hardworking and poor men tipped hats at her, somebody was kissing the hem of her gown, and she had to beg them to stop and help them to their feet, which just made them try to kiss her hem more.

Mara Jade Skywalker felt as though she were being embraced by the whole world.

_This is what this means. This is what Luke feels, why he won't leave. This is why I'm Empress._

And for the first time, her political thoughts strayed beyond the Republic Confederacy, encompassed these mostly good and mostly honest people here – and she vowed to be the best Empress she could be for them and for Luke.

It took a long time, but before she knew it, she was through the adoring and suffocating crowd, pressed into the speeder by her coterie. The door shut, the roar of the mass was dulled somewhat, and she looked wide-eyed around her.

"Sith, Mara," Wes whistled. "I don't think you know what you did out there."

Wedge was grinning ear to ear. "All news is good news, but I'll brief you when we're safe and back at the Palace."

At _last_ Mara felt like she'd accomplished something, smiled at the Rogues, and tilted her head back on the plush leather seat. It was time for this Jedi to get a long deserved breather.


	22. Chapter 22

**High Flying, Adored**

**Chapter Twenty Two**

Disclaimer: See Chapter Twenty One.

A.N.: Started this chapter during the break in my bio class, go me. Being all rebellious and all that. What's even better is that I dropped that bio class. The (bad) instructor took an inexplicable dislike to me and was refusing to give me credit on assignments. Screw that! See, after making the Dean's list _twice _at a much harder school than that, nobody but nobody tells me I'm working on an "elementary" level. Let that be a lesson to you, boys and girls; don't take crap from instructors if they aren't even any good. On with the things you actually care about:

I shift slightly in describing Piett from what's on Wookieepedia (a great resource for those who haven't already discovered it), which I think/hope is forgivable because I feel – like with Xizor – the character is sketched out so roughly or unrealistically it's open to malleability, which I have certainly seen done with great success with Piett; this, and also because the existing literature seems to conflict with the given information. Any dissenters are more than welcome to leave their thoughts in the complaint/review box, I'd love to discuss it.

Hopefully the way I've structured this is interesting rather than confusing…

Now seems as appropriate time as any to ask the burning question: if there were to be a love scene between Mara and Luke (and I'm not promising there will be or that they'll end up together) how graphic do you guys want it to be? I can do whatever's required, I just want to know if you guys want me to up the rating on this thing or what. Let your voice be heard! Leave a comment. And a nice review. Preferably a long one.

Deja Know I Been Lookin For...: Well, I think this one is very uplifting!

Mara-the-Cat: XD! Well, hey, see above, you get to tell me how much you want.

FREAKSHOW1: An escape plan and some beach front property far away from Coruscant.

Jaded-Skywalker: Thank you!

Mary Sue's Ugly BFF: Very glad to hear they're worth waiting for!

SithKnight-Galen: For the five billionth time, you've hit the nail on the head; agreeably, the Madonna movie is not a good representation of Evita by any means, especially considering she did not actually make _any _speeches to save Peron during his imprisonment, so I actually _was _going for a Marc Anthony feel. How do you read my mind? Seriously? How do you keep doing that?

JadeTakashi: Thank you for such a fantastic review! It is in-depth and tells me exactly what you liked, I so appreciate that! I hope to continue to please.

Osprey Eamon: Thanks so much for sitting down and reading through the whole thing! New readers are always appreciated and I'm glad I was able to catch your attention.

Dama Jade: Hey, no need to apologize, kids make everything take longer. The trauma's a very good guess, but unfortunately not correct, and so I'm afraid I'll just have to disappoint and say it's a genetic anomaly. But it will be discussed more later. Thanks so much for taking time out of a hectic schedule to read and review! It is much appreciated.

………………………………………………………………………………………

_So famous, so easily,_

_So soon,_

_Is not the wisest thing to be._

_You won't care if they love you –_

_It's been done before._

_You'll despair if they hate you._

_You'll be drained of all energy._

_All the young who've made it_

_Would agree._

- Evita

………………………………………………………………………………………

Admiral Piett felt a little out of place, as though he were being stared at. The idea wasn't entirely a paranoid one, for the forty four year old navy man was standing at ease and all alone in the center of the great and dark throne room of the reinstated Emperor Luke Skywalker, with only the Imperial Guards for company; they ringed the throne room and seemed to look at and through him as they awaited the entrance of their Lord and Master.

Firmus Piett had been the good news Wedge had mentioned to Mara on their speeder ride back to the Palace. "The elite core of the Imperial Navy has defected!"

Mara's eyes had practically popped out of her face as she listened to Wedge's gleeful news, which he told in an almost giddy manner, as though he might leap up and click his heels. "You're kidding!"

"I just got the report in from Alderaan on my comm.!" he cried, pulling out the earpiece as though it were proof while the other Rogues hooted and hollered. "He took the flagships for more than a _third _of the navy – all the crack teams, too-"

"A third!"

"Flew straight to Alderaan, demanded an audience with the Senate _and _the President, and just _filled _the Senate hall with Imperial officers and troops demanding we uphold the treaty and kick out Xizor!"

Mara had called back home straight away upon getting safely into her own quarters with the Rogues standing guard, and had gotten a hold of Leia. The young woman confirmed the story, just as anxious as her friend. "It's all true," she said, bobbing her head. "One hundred percent; oh, Mara, you should have _seen _it! I don't think I've ever seen something so impressive and so cool a display before. He wasn't pushy," she added thoughtfully, a finger to a red lip. "He landed his retinue, he very calmly and politely asked for the audience, and wouldn't take no for an answer – but in a very polite, refined sort of way."

"Where's he from?"

"Outer Rim someplace, you usually don't associate that with such excellent breeding."

"Ignore that; Leia, what _happened_?"

"Well, he spoke eloquently, and let me tell you, I was so startled I cannot remember a single _word_ of it; but I've never seen President Mothma look so impressed."

"Really?"

"The Confederate Navy's on the way, Xizor doesn't have a prayer!"

And indeed, he hadn't. Mara remembered at the time being relieved knowing that Leia would be safe from his clutches, but was more relieved when the actual force arrived, Admiral Piett and their own General Rieekan in command. She was surprised, really, to be alive after such an electrifying speech; she credited her survival to the stupid insistence of the Rogues to take shifts guarding her door, and her own careful perception as a Jedi. But in the morning, she was safe, and the reinforcements had come – and Xizor was no longer Emperor.

Which is, full circle, how Admiral Piett came to be standing in the Imperial Throne Room awaiting an audience with his emperor.

Well, not _full _circle, as obviously some details have not been fully covered; the first thing Mara did once the two military men had taken control of Coruscant, were routing the Black Sun forces, and had a retinue of Imperial Guards to spare her was to rush to Luke's dirty little prison cell and _get him out_. She'd sat paralyzed in the cab of the emergency speeder as med droids chattered and clicked and beeped and covered him with bacta and filled him with strange, clear liquids.

"Temperature is at 40.1."

"_How_ high?" Mara had gasped, clutching her husband's hand and willing as much of the healing Force she could into him.

"Stabilizing heart rate."

"Is that good?"

"Blood pressure's still too low."

Mara gave up asking questions after a while, for none of the droids answered them and did not seem to even acknowledge her presence, merely working around her. She stayed with Luke in his med room all eight hours of his stay, barely resting, while doctors and med droids brought him from the edge of death and somewhat closer to his previous vigor. She was with him when he was released and was with him even when he tried to shoo her away.

"Mara," he scolded in a tired voice, "it's been a long week and a half for you, you must need rest."

"It was long for you, too."

"That may be," he acknowledged, beginning to slip into his, "authority," voice. "Nevertheless, I just got out of a hospital stay and _I'm _going straight to bed, alright? I expect you to do the same."

Mara did, but not before fervently thanking the Force for rescuing her husband and ally.

Which, again, is full circle to how Admiral Piett came to be in the Imperial Throne Room; once His Sovereign Emperor Skywalker was back in control, he declared a party, a ball, press invited and all – to celebrate not only his return to life and power, but the coinciding anniversary of the birth of the Empire; that particular function had already been planned before his capture and prison stay, and he saw no reason to cancel the event just because it had been a trying two weeks.

To clarify, Admiral Piett was waiting in the throne room because his emperor had requested he be there, and in just another moment, the doors flew open and self-same Emperor and his lady entered. "There's the man of the hour!" Skywalker was proclaiming, a broad grin upon his handsome face; he was elegantly dressed in unusually showy attire for him, a soft, dark vest accompanied with a black and velvet cape, which billowed behind him when he extended his arms to the admiral. His lady was no less attired, a long black dress that clung to her curves and flared at the ankle, with sequins at the shoulder and a thick string of purple pearls at her throat. She did not act like that concerned and loving wife Piett had seen holo-footage of on the journey back to Coruscant with reinforcements. She seemed as bad tempered and flippant as ever, leading the thoughtful man to the reasonable conclusion that it had been nothing more than a show – but at least one that had saved the Emperor's life, so he could forgive her duplicity.

"I am very pleased to see you looking well, Admiral," Skywalker said as he approached Piett. When he warmly grasped his hand, the navy man dropped to one knee and respectfully bowed his head, which Luke would not have. "None of that, I won't have the man who saved my life on his knees to me!" With great humility, Piett rose to his feet, but still kept his head pointed towards the floor.

"You do me great honor, My Lord."

"Well, may all men be so lucky to have such loyal servants in their hour of need." It seemed to Piett that the Emperor and Empress were the most mismatched couple in the world; for Luke was all smiles and gayety while Mara stood respectfully to the side, a frown upon an otherwise pretty face; one had been born into graceful nobility, the other born into trash. One Imperial, one Republican. Piett did not understand it.

But presently Skywalker's arm had wrapped around the man's shoulder and the trio were walking towards the great hall and the waiting public. "You served my father in the war, did you not?"

"I did, sir."

"He always spoke very highly of you. It is not difficult to see why." He turned to face his new friend and smiled, causing Piett's mouth to turn up at the corners a little, too.

The Admiral could not hear the Jedi as she whispered to her husband, "Luke, you ought to be resting." His opinion of her would have improved if he had.

Luke, however, was not one to sit and rest at such an hour, and he gently touched her hand with his fingertips and scolded, "Thank you, Mother, I think I can handle myself." He turned his attention back to Piett again. "I need men of so high a caliber as you, they are difficult to come across." The Admiral bowed his head again. "I intend to have you receive the highest award it is in my power to give."

"I did not…do what I did, My Lord, for promise of reward."

"No, certainly not, were that the case, it would have been wiser to stick with Xizor." He chuckled, and Piett gave a small smile again. "No, I realize that – that is why you are so deserving." He clapped him upon the back, releasing him from his grasp. "Come and visit me tomorrow! It would give me great pleasure to speak with you."

"As you wish, My Lord."

"My wife and I so hope you will join us at the ball," he added, mood extraordinarily jovial.

Piett's eyes flickered in the Empress' direction and pretended not to doubt the sincerity of the wish. "Her Ladyship is too kind."

"She is!" Luke agreed, taking Mara's hand spontaneously and kissing it, which she quickly snatched away again and privately wished he wouldn't do. "Come and sit at our table, eat with us!"

"You humble me, My Lord, but I had not planned to attend."

"Of course, no doubt you are extremely tired after putting in so much noble work in service to the Empire."

"I am, yes."

"Well, so be it," Luke smiled again, clapping Piett on the shoulder once more. "But if you do change your mind, I can assure you there will be a place for you and all of Coruscant will wish to thank you for your service to us in our time of need."

Piett simply gave a low bow, and muttered, "My Most Excellent Lord," and was dismissed.

Mara sighed once he was gone, crossing her arms. "He will not go."

"No, of course not," Luke agreed, taking her arm in his and dropping a little bit of the playfulness of his air. "Piett is not a man who hunts for glory, merely honesty."

"He is…" the Jedi hesitated, "a good man."

"That he most certainly is, and we are most indebted to him." The Emperor paused and turned to his wife, holding her hands in his. "And I am most indebted to you." Mara flushed a little and her green eyes stared at the rich, marble floor. "My secretary gave me a tape of that speech you did-"

"Just shut up about it, okay?" Mara asked, unable to take the hot flushing of her cheeks and the bizarre and overwhelming feeling that she might suddenly cry. It welled up from her stomach and she did not like it.

Luke gave a short laugh, releasing her hands. "Alright." They stood quietly like that for a long time before he offered her his arm again.

Mara took it, but not before asking, "What are you going to do with Xizor?"

"Please, that gives me a headache, talk about anything else." She could think of nothing else and thus remained quiet, for being anything other than business-like with her husband made her feel distinctly nervous. "Shall we go present ourselves to the crowd, my dear?" he asked her once they had reached the door to the great hall, buzzing noise of conversation and music seeping through the cracks in the door. Mara simply nodded, and Luke led her in; in these sorts of situations, she preferred following behind him, for she was not used to them and she knew he made her safe here, and safety was a rare feeling she was coming to highly treasure.

………………………………………………………………………………………

Luke deferred all questions from the press to the general statement he had given earlier, and asked them all very politely to just let him enjoy the soiree as it had been a very trying two weeks. And since Luke was so universally adored, no one dared protest.

Mara felt…surprisingly happy just to sit with him at the private table with a few dignitaries and General Rieekan as honored guest – where Xizor nevermore would sit. She enjoyed dancing with her husband, and laughed when he whirled her around the floor and spun her and dipped her and all such things. Their smiles for the cameras as they danced like all the other couples on the floor were genuine, and she enjoyed the feeling of her hand in that of his, did not feel so embarrassed to look up at him with green eyes wide and glittering.

"I'm glad you're home, Luke," was the only tender thing she managed to whisper, and Skywalker's hand on her waist tightened slightly just to acknowledge that he'd heard her comment.

The highlight of the evening, of course, had been when the crowd of simple, ordinary folk had poured up to the palace gates once more, calling for their emperor as they had been the night Luke had been taken; and when an aide interrupted His Majesty's dancing to tell him this, Mara got a good look at his face in profile.

It was only for the shortest of moments, but she saw the deep lines cut beneath the eyes, the puffy black circles a testimonial to his exhaustion. She saw the gouged frown of the mouth, the crease of the brow as his whole face betrayed his intense thought as he simply listened to his aide. Jade looked down at Skywalker's hands and she saw their dryness – not a rough workingman's hands, but still somehow betraying their use, whatever that use was. The Jedi girl looked up at the man she married and she saw in his hollowed out face a lifetime's worth of concern and use and worry, the illness beneath the surface he'd tried so desperately to hide for tonight, to make the Empire look as strong as before. But no, Luke Skywalker was sick, and even if it was only temporary, it was like a window to the future,; Mara could almost see for a moment how he would be in another twenty two years, how torn and wasted he would be then.

_And he will die young_, the Force seemed to whisper, _just like his father_.

Skywalkers, she'd been told, had extraordinarily hereditary genes; _every _trait, good and bad and simple, went from father to son and with no exceptions.

Coursing hot fear poured through Mara's body, starting at the stomach and radiating outwards, white and burning, and she was snapped out of her study when she saw Luke nodding. "Of course I'll go out to the balcony," he was telling that aide. "I can't promise a speech, but the least I can do is go out there."

And there he went, Mara saw; one moment he'd been in her grasp dancing, and now he was going back to work – which is what their whole marriage was and would always be, as though she was not there at all, she realized.

She would not have that.

As he turned to go, her hand suddenly tightened about his, and he turned and flashed that handsome, handsome smile at her, and the white hot fear melted into something more sluggish and paralyzing, but still moving through her. "Promise you'll come to me tonight?" she asked him, and when he cocked his head and raised a blonde eyebrow at her, she added, "Just to talk, you know." Her eyebrows furrowed and she did not look as sweet and pretty as a moment ago. "Don't get any funny ideas, Skywalker."

Luke laughed, and waved off her concern with a simple, "Sure, sure." She did not let go of his hand, however, and he did not ask questions or try and pry it off; he was simply going to include her in his political life, too, Mara realized with shock and fear, and he led her off the dance floor and to the balcony.

Mara waited, however, inside when her husband walked out with arms raised and the crowd _roared_; she didn't want to quite make the commitment of going outside, it would mean and imply too many things, most of them she didn't even know or understand. And it seemed too cold out, she thought, leaning against a wall with her arms crossed and shivering a little and wishing she understood why she felt so strange.

She felt lost and scared, even though everything was safe now, even though there was no more danger – she wished she knew why and she wished she had Master Obi-Wan or Leia, or Sith, all of Alderaan to help her feel at home again.

_I obviously need to take a meditation sabbatical. Something's wrong with my head_.

Mara didn't listen to Luke's little speech. It was short and simple, something canned yet sincere that was appropriate for all occasions but twisted nicely so that it exactly fit this one. She didn't pay attention to any of her surroundings, only the weird and bubbling feelings she felt inside, and was startled when Luke had come back inside and touched her arm. Her green eyes were wide as a startled cat's as she looked up into his beaming face. "Mara," he panted, a little out of breath, "can't you hear them?"

"Hear what?" she replied, shaking her head, which was all muddled and bizarre.

"The people outside!" he cried, slipping his hand into hers. "They're calling for you!" Her eyes grew a little wider yet, and she gulped hard and dug her heels in as he began to lead her out to the balcony. He paused and looked at her, blinking. "Now's no time to be anti-social," he told her, leading her gently along. "They want to see you."

And there she was, Mara Jade Skywalker, Empress of the whole universe, with a throng of people fifty meters below her feet and all cheering _her _name! It was…well, exhilarating, and not as frightening as she'd thought it would be, certainly not as frightening as that strange mish-mash of emotions she was dealing with, and in fact a welcome change from that. She leaned her elbows on the rail, raising one hand a little and waving down at the people below, all of whom seemed to wave back. The Jedi couldn't help it, she smiled and eventually grinned, blowing one kiss and throwing her arms open to them as Luke had done before. "My people!" was all she said, "we truly are the makers of the galaxy, you and I! No tyrant need make us tremble!" They shouted and hollered for that, and she was not startled when she felt Luke touch her elbow. No, she just looked up at him and smiled, wrapping her arm in his so that they both waved back with one hand each before backing off the balcony and back inside the warmth of the palace.

"It's late," her husband whispered, pushing a lock of her red hair behind her ear; Mara's head was down and she flicked her eyes up at him and then back down again. "You go change and get ready for bed, I'll join you in a little while."

"Alright."

Luke kissed her hand and she could not help but to enjoy the sensation of his lips on her skin. "You make me very proud of you, Mara Jade."

He left her after that, with only that strange and unusual comment for company, and she stared at his broad back as he left, head cocked to the side and so very confused. What had that meant? She had not needed to hear it, and yet…she somehow ached for him to say it again.

_I don't understand my life_, was all Mara could reason out, wrapping her arms about herself. Well, it had been a long two weeks, that was all.


	23. Chapter 23

**High Flying, Adored**

**Chapter Twenty Three**

Disclaimer: Story's mine, characters aren't, no money's being made, just back off.

A.N.: Oh, I should be studying for psych, yes….but I'm going to do this instead! (So tired of studying…) I also figured there's no reason the Emperor wouldn't have a fancy taste for hot chocolate like in the normal universe…

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_Like the moon, an enigma_

_Lost and alone in the night_

- Jekyll and Hyde

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"Nice cough."

There was a dull thud and a small, suppressed cry of pain as an Imperial trooper jabbed the butt of his blaster into the bruised and battered Falleen's side. "You'll address the Emperor as Your Majesty, alien trash."

"No, don't," Luke insisted softly, extending his hand. He and Xizor locked eyes – sky blue and lavender – and did not move for a long time. At last, the Emperor asked the soldier, "How did he come across these cuts?"

"Some of the boys got excited when they pried him off his Skyhook, Your Honor."

Skywalker – a week shy of twenty seven – folded his hands behind him and shook his head; or, he would have folded his hands behind him, were he not suddenly doubled over with coughing, and one hand had to brace himself upon the wall as the other covered his mouth. The Falleen smirked, and once the wracking noise was over, Skywalker gave a rattling gasp of air and clutched his throat. The soldiers stood at nervous attention.

"I am very displeased with that," at last he finished his sentence with a croak.

The commanding officer hung his head. "Yes, sir."

Xizor of course had been apprehended. And he had not been treated with a great deal of delicacy, as his formerly opulent and now trashed robes testified. He had cuts across his face and arms and Luke knew not where, but he was held and bound and guarded by Imperial troops, standing with his enemy in an Imperial cell.

This cell bore a marked improvement to the one Luke had been imprisoned in, and all of his "humanitarian," airs only served to irritate the former head of Black Sun even more. Where did Skywalker come off, pretending to be so _good_, so perfectly high and mighty?

"You have the right to representation," Luke reminded.

"If you're so good at following the rules," the once-upon-a-time prince purred, "why am I not in a court of law?"

"High treason is to be seen directly by the emperor. Perhaps it isn't fair, though, maybe I should amend it."

"Oh, shut up," the lizard sneered, and he was struck with the blaster again.

"I said stop it," Luke snapped, and the Imperials shifted shamefully, all actions purely out of love. Cooling his temper, he continued. "You have the right to speak in your defense." Xizor said nothing and Skywalker's patience was clearly being tried; his soldiers grew cross and Luke simply gave up. "If you have nothing to say, then Prince Xizor, the evidence presented to me prompts me to find you guilty of high treasons and crimes against the Galactic Empire. If you repent of your crimes, your life will be spared and you will be sent into exile-"

"I will never repent," Xizor snarled, eyes cold and shrewd.

Luke paused and stood very, very still in the dim light of the prison. "If you will not repent, then you will face execution." A pause. "By beheading." No one said anything for a long time and Luke ordered Xizor's hands be unbound. When they were, the Emperor extended his hand to the man who had tried to kill and destroy him, and said, "Please, Xizor. Can we not be countrymen?"

There had already been a chill in the tiny little cell, but now the temperature dropped considerably lower, and everyone felt uncomfortable. "I shall _never_ be your countryman," the Falleen swore, sharp teeth bared. "Neither you nor your murdering, bastard father – no kinsmen to you nor friend, nor to anyone connected with the horrible death of my family and the desecration of the glorious planet of Falleen. I shall _never _repent, and I wish most fervently in my heart that whatever Sith Hell exists that you may burn there; I _hate _you, Luke Skywalker. And never shall I do any different."

No one said anything in the cold tension for some time, excluding Luke, who could not restrain his fits of coughing. Finally, he got his coughing and trembling under control, and extended his hand to the officer at his side; the man handed him a cold, polished black cylinder. It was chipped and used and worn, but obviously a revered heirloom – it was Darth Vader's lightsaber.

Luke, of course, had to struggle for a moment to turn it on, and all the soldiers jumped widely back to avoid being accidentally struck. Holding it carefully and nervously at his side, red light now glowing all about the cell, Skywalker ordered, "Put him on his knees." Xizor was forced down, neck held exposed by yanking on his topknot. "Do you have any last requests, Prince Xizor?" Luke asked nervously and respectfully.

"Die painfully and dishonorably." An officer growled, but Luke shushed him.

The Emperor wanted to say something noble or witty or somehow appropriate to the situation, and he couldn't. He'd raised the pulsating red weapon above his head and there he held it for several minutes, gathering the courage and restraining his coughing – coughing just didn't seem appropriate to the moment. He closed his eyes and then forced them open, forced himself to see the act he was about to perpetrate. At last he sighed, cemented his resolve.

Brought down the saber.

And that was the end of Prince Xizor the Falleen of Black Sun.

………………………………………………………………………………………

"How do you drink this stuff? It's too sweet."

"Just give it to me."

Luke was sitting quietly in his favorite armchair in his room, head lolled over the back in a way that looked extraordinarily uncomfortable for his neck. He'd ordered up his favorite comfort drink of hot chocolate and a serving droid had delivered it. Mara took it from the bot at the door and carried it over to the despondent man, knowing better than to tease him about it. Instead she handed it to him, and he curled up on the seat cushion and blew at the frothy brown substance.

Luke Skywalker looked very small and childlike, his wife reflected, even though he was almost twenty seven.

_This time last year his father was still alive. I know this is crazy, but I wish he still were_.

Mara plunked herself down on the sofa, taking a needle and thread to the torn hem of her Jedi robe; she wasn't much good at sewing, but it needed to be done and it was her responsibility to care for her things. "You could have given the lightsaber to an officer to do it, there wouldn't have been any shame in it."

"It wouldn't have been right, Mara, you know that, it was _my _responsibility and I will not shirk it. Ohhh," he groaned, putting down his drink and burying his face in his hands, "I should have amended the law before I carried out the sentence. Beheadings! It's gruesome! And with lightsabers of all things…"

"I'm sure that's a holdover from Palpatine; there was no reason to think any heirs _wouldn't _be familiar with a lightsaber and corporal punishment." Mara looked at him as he took a long, satisfied sip of cocoa. "Can you really not use the Force?"

"Yes, Mara," he replied. "I really can't." He got up and sat down next to her on the sofa, very close. "What color's your lightsaber." Mara unclipped her weapon from her belt and flicked it on, a magenta glow settling over the room. "Father's was red; is that significant of anything?"

"Red's usually the color of the Sith," she said, turning her weapon off and adopting a businesslike manner; listing off facts was easy and required neither thought nor intimacy.

Luke snorted. "What, red's supposed to be the color of supreme evil now?"

"I dunno, I didn't start it."

"The color of _blood_," he mocked her, becoming more playful – she took it as a good sign as he had been near-dead for hours after the execution, and smiled a little. He handed her his chocolate mug saying, "Go ahead, try it," and then continued his train of thought as she did; "What if you had a red lightsaber?"

"Master Yoda would kill me."

"Why?"

She made a face at the taste of the cocoa, though secretly found it to be somewhat enjoyable. "Because he has always been certain I'm just two steps away from the Dark Side." Luke began coughing again before Mara could hand back his drink and she worried for him once more. "Maybe you shouldn't drink this stuff, it's aggravating your throat."

"The heat's good for me," he promised, taking it back and enjoying a long swig. "I'm fine."

"You are not."

"Am so." He coughed again, and withdrew a thick, white handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose a little. "Are you two steps away from the Dark Side?"

Mara's face darkened, and Skywalker figured maybe it wasn't the best subject to broach – but of course, those were always the topics she liked to spring on him, so he found it to be an inevitable facet to their relationship. "I am a Jedi," she insisted. "I will always be a Jedi. If I were going to turn, I would have done it by now."

"You don't need to convince me."

"I know that!" she snapped.

Luke spoke in a calm, levelheaded voice after a moment; Mara hated when he did that, she _hated_ that he could always be so calm and cool others down as well. "So then who are you trying to convince?" She was angry, and got up and stormed around the room, arms crossed and manner icy. "I'm sorry," Skywalker apologized. "I shouldn't have said that."

"It's fine."

"Really."

"Yeah, I know."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Mara stopped, green eyes going wide before she finally turned her head and stared at him. "You know," he continued, "sit down, let it all out. Mara?"

Nobody…ever _wanted _to talk about these things, she reflected. The list of things Masters Yoda and Obi-Wan had told her _not _to talk about was so long she'd gotten used to not saying much of anything. "Why would you want to hear about that?" she muttered, returning to a more normal and comfortable manner of speech

"Because it's obviously bothering you."

"It's not bothering me."

"You know," Luke puzzled, "I was always told it was _girls _who were big on communicating and _sharing feelings_ and all that, and so far, I do much more talking than you."

"That makes you the girl."

"These are the things friends talk about, Mara," Luke said, looking at her so that she was forced to look at him. "I haven't had a lot of those, but I know that's what they do."

Mara stumbled, took a step back toward the sofa. "I haven't had a lot either."

"Great," he spoke softly. "So then let's supplement that, huh? We're friends, aren't we?"

_Mara Jade, Jedi Knight…friends with Emperor Luke Skywalker, son of the Lord of the Sith._

Well, hey, why not.

Mara sat back down next to him on the couch and timidly accepted his mug when he handed it to her. "Yeah," she whispered, "we're friends."

"There's my girl," he smiled, wrapping an arm about her shoulder so that she had to lean against him – and how she enjoyed that, enjoyed the feeling of comfort and safety, even the smell of his clothes!

_Something's wrong with me, I'm making friends._

_Or something's right._

_I don't like either option._

"You drink the rest of that," he ordered, "what I have's not catching, and even if it were you've got that Jedi…health…trick, whatever it's called, you'll be fine." She dutifully finished it and felt butterflies in her stomach. She wanted to go now. "You know what I haven't done in years?" he asked her, mood extremely jovial. "I haven't sat down and watched a holovid in just about forever. Who's starring in them these days?"

"There's that white Twi'lek girl, I forget her name…"

"Oh, yeah, what's-her-face," Luke smiled, squeezing Mara's shoulder. "So long as I'm apparently the girl, we could do something really feminine like stay up all night and watch films. That's girly, right?"

"And talk about boys?" Mara muttered sarcastically.

Luke grimaced. "Ah, no, we'll scratch that. Wait," he purred, grinning slyly. "What boys would you talk about?" Mara's face began to match her hair, and she struggled to get out of Luke's grip; he held her tighter, though, and her muscles could not work properly. "Do you have a crush on somebody, Mara Jade?"

"Let me go, you sack of Rancor spit," she growled, putting her hands upon his chest to act as a wedge between them, and finding that her arms just buckled to touch him.

_No, no, doing something wrong, that's very obvious._

"We can't stay up," she reminded him, finally breaking free and quickly regaining composure. "You need to rest."

"I'm fine!" Luke cried. "I'm fit as a f-" He dissolved into a fit of hacking coughing that was painful simply to see and hear. Mara put a hand upon his chest again, this time to pour some of the healing Force into his system. Luke just sat back and wordless took the treatment, warmth flooding his chest. "That's better," he muttered, wrapping his arms about himself and shuddering a little.

"Unless you get something to keep you warm," the Jedi scolded, "I won't let you stay up another five minutes."

"Alright, Mommy, alright," he grumbled, getting up and walking out of that part of the room to rummage in his closet. Mara found herself drawn back to the shelf with the data chips when he was gone, vaguely listening to his voice from the other room. "I know I have this nice quilt in here someplace." Jade wasn't really listening, running one of her fingers along the spines of the chips, observing their labels and colors and codings. "Here it is!" Luke returned at last, a heavy quilt wrapped around his shoulders – dark, dark blue with a spiral-armed nebula on it. "A dignitary's wife made this for me, now what was her name…"

"Can I take one of these recordings with me?" Mara asked, turning to him. "When I go back to Alderaan?"

Luke stared at her, taken off guard and a little confused. "Oh, that's right, you're leaving soon."

"A couple more days."

"I'd forgotten." His voice sounded so suddenly sad and gloomy, as though he were disappointed. Mara didn't understand. Luke ambled on back to the sofa, plopping down onto it and wrapping himself tightly in the thick quilt so that only his neck and up remained uncovered. "I'm sure you can't wait to leave."

"It's not that," Mara muttered, rubbing an arm. "I could just use the time with-"

"Your family."

She blinked. "They're…they're not-"

"They are," he promised, looking out her without betraying a hint of emotion. "I see you when you mention them, you love all those people back in the Confederacy very much."

It was the first time Mara realized how alone Luke was when she was back home – how alone he would be for the next three months. He used to have his father, the only family on Coruscant he had, and now he did not. It had not seemed to make a difference before, when he had not particularly liked her – but something was different now. It was different for her, too, and while she missed her…family back on Alderaan….she would miss him, too.

The most popular man in the galaxy. And he was really all alone. He put up a beautiful front of loner toughness because he had to, but she could see it in his eyes – Luke Skywalker was not a creature designed for loneliness. Perhaps not even designed for leadership, for the two so often go hand in hand. Not the type of personality who should have been expected to be the Savior of the Galaxy or the Grand Lord Emperor.

He was a great man, yes. It had been all thrust upon him.

And he was not the type of personality to shrug that off, either.

_I don't understand you, Luke Skywalker. You have never been like you are supposed to be. I don't understand you._

"Will you think of me," he asked her, rising and letting the quilt drop to the floor, "when you're back on Alderaan?"

He had approached her now, standing very close to her and looking down at her as she tilted her head down and stared at the floor. "I will," she promised, "yes." Something about him compelled her to look up, and some inexplicable, unspoken something passed between them; Luke's eyes widen in some sort of shock and he took a sharp breath that rattled in his chest in a manner unrelated to his illness. Mara felt something strange bubbling up within her, the same something she'd felt eighty times before, but more intense this time, somehow. "Every day."

They did not speak for about a minute, and at last Skywalker tore his eyes away, examining his data shelf and fumbling his fingers along their spines. At last he pulled one off, limbs trembling, and pressed it into her hand, folding the slender fingers over it. He held her hand there tightly with his for a while, seemingly unable to let her go. "Keep it," he told her.

"I-"

"I want you to, it's yours now." He took a shuddery breath and let her go, taking a large step back and running a hand through his hair. The Emperor seemed to be recovering his composure. "All yours…"

Mara looked down at the object in her hand, cheeks a little red. She walked to him and touched his arm, telling him, "Promise to rest up while I'm gone," wished him a goodnight, and slipped out the door. She trembled with every step and clutched her new possession – though a little afraid she'd break it her grip was so tight – as though to draw strength from it.


	24. Chapter 24

**High Flying, Adored**

**Chapter Twenty Four**

Disclaimer: See Chapter Twenty Three

A.N.: My life has been crazy, guys, sorry for the lack of updates. I also apologize for the fact I seemed to have forgotten to reply to reviews in the last chapter. I humbly beg your pardon.

FREAKSHOW1: Hey, it's a nice cliché.

dyslecksec: Thanks for the constructive criticism, I already answered you with a note.

Lady Murray: Did you mean to say update? Because fishing for reviews on other people's fics is really poor taste.

GreenEyedCatDragon: Oh heck yes they do.

Healing Hands: Yeah, I'm sorry it took six months…

e-anaid: Thank you very much! High praise indeed.

Coral Skipper: Thank you for the compliments! I haven't given up on the story at all, it just unfortunately has to wait in a long, long que…

one of the lost: Tada!

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_Our destiny calls and we go_

_And the wild winds of Fortune_

_Shall carry us onward_

_Oh wither so ever they blow._

- Man of La Mancha

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They did not purposefully avoid each other the last few days before Mara returned to Alderaan. However, Luke was ill and needed rest between work – and he was working much of the time, obsessively correcting all that had gone wrong in Xizor's week and a half of neglectful power. Mara was tired of telling him to rest all the time and was desperately ready to go home. She feared if she stayed around him too often such motherly compunctions as she'd been suffering under lately might compel her to stay, and she did not want that. Instead she was occupied with her own work as Minister of Foreign Affairs and official Envoy of the Republic.

Their parting, therefore, necessarily lacked the affected affection they had displayed before, and was instead simple and real. Luke stood on the platform, took her hand and reminded her of the things he needed her to do while she was away; Mara repeated that he'd told her multiple times already and that she would not forget.

However, after her dry and gruff grumbling, she gave him a small, conservative smile and asked, "Promise to take care of yourself while I'm away?"

Luke sighed, it seemed to reach his eyes, which seemed a deeper blue than they usually did in the dusky morning light. "Yes," he said, "my secretary said he'd remind me."

"Good."

They were not entirely sure how to part after that and stood there a second more – holding hands – than was perhaps appropriate. But then Luke squeezed her hand and let her go, taking a step back so that she would feel able to leave. "Have a safe trip."

And that was how she left Coruscant for the second time as the wife of Emperor Luke Skywalker.

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This time Mara's flight did not land on her home planet until shortly after nightfall, so there was not a crowd waiting for her return. Perhaps they no longer thought it so unusual or glamorous, but she gave that as little thought as possible. Alderaan was simply busy returning back to its normal state, having experienced just as much tumult as larger Coruscant in the past few weeks.

However, the Jedi were there to welcome their child home, even frumpy Master Yoda, who seemed to grow closer and closer to the time when it would be necessary to become one with the Force. Despite her strained relationship with the Jedi Master, Mara felt a twinge of sympathy and sadness, and thought that she would actually miss the wizened old creature.

"Much have you seen," were the first words out of his lips, tapping his gaffer stick slightly on the smooth marble. "Coruscant was busy, hm?"

"It was, Master Yoda," she agreed with a polite bow. "I have longed for the meditative peace of the Temple."

"Hm. Rest will you, come, come." The miniature Jedi processional marched on, in silence – or would have, but Obi-Wan hung back slightly and touched Mara's elbow.

"Things are returned to normal then?"

"As normal as they ever were," she replied, beginning to yawn and covering her mouth with the back of her hand. "The Emperor continues to constantly surprise me."

"Skywalkers have a tendency to do that."

The marching had stopped and so the conversation did as well. Master Yoda gave Mara one more long once-over and said, "Much have you seen, much have you grown. Someday soon shall you make a proper Jedi."

Mara's green eyes blinked with a great deal of surprise and shock. Bowing low, she replied, "I thank you for your kindness, Master Yoda."

"Hm." He continued to look at her a moment and then turned to a companion on his left, announcing, "Rest must I. More shall we all speak tomorrow," and the other Jedi led him off to his quarters.

Just Mara and Kenobi remained in the cool, spacious courtyard, the sound of the fountain the only sound other than the tread of the Jedi, the moonlight providing the only illumination.

"I am sure you must be tired," Kenobi said, looking at the slightly warn Mara Jade. "But would you care to sit with me a little while tonight?" She looked at him. "I confess I have missed your presence."

Mara smiled; it was small and would have been larger, but she was tired, after all. However, she had missed her master as well and nodded sleepily, laying a hand upon his arm to steady herself. "I should like nothing better."

"Except bed, perhaps. I will not keep you up long."

"You needn't worry about me, I can handle being a little tired."

"Alright." He touched her elbow to awaken her slightly and pointed her in the right direction. "Shall we go?"

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She curled up in one of the old Jedi Master's simplistic chairs, nothing like the large, over-stuffed ones that decorated the Emperor's rooms on Coruscant. Mara didn't care, though, after so much luxury and complications, she had yearned for the simple and plain, and she enjoyed sitting with her feet tucked beneath her, passing a steaming cup of spiced tea between her hands, warming her palms on the cup. She sighed with contentedness and sleepiness and her old master took a seat across from her with just a glass of water. The next half hour was spent telling him all about her harrowing adventure upon Coruscant, about Xizor and her trickery with the Rogues. At last, however, she came to what had bothered her most for so long, and looked at Obi-Wan from the corners of her green eyes.

"Master Obi-Wan," she hesitated. "There is something else the Emperor told me that I have wanted to ask you about."

Kenobi gave a slight frown – but from thought, not from displeasure, trying to imagine what it might be. "Of course, you may ask anything you like, you always knew that."

"Well, he said…" She hesitated and decided to rephrase it, setting her now empty mug to the side. "He is not a Sith, Master."

The man did not act at all shocked or surprised, sighing slightly, shoulders slumping just a little bit. "I know," he confessed. "He has too much good in him."

"Or not enough. I can't stand overly good people," she muttered, plucking at a hangnail. "They do the most harm in the world."

"What a peculiar thing to say."

"It's just that…if he is not a Lord of the Sith, why have we been saying that for so long? Why were the Jedi even involved in the Galactic War if Lord Vader was the only Sith?"

"Mara," Obi-Wan sighed, not sure why he was surprised that she would bring up a difficult subject. "It has always been the purpose of the Jedi to defend the Republic, you know this."

"Yes."

"That is why we were involved."

"There is more to it than that. I grew up here being told the Skywalkers were all evil Sith when only _one _was. What was there to fear?"

"It is a complicated issue," he tried to defend, but Mara gave him a relentless look and he gave another heavy sigh. "Look; it seemed logical to believe that Darth Vader would raise his son to be a Lord of the Sith, there had not been evidence to suggest otherwise."

"But you knew he was not."

"_I _knew, yes, and Senator Amidala and a few other Jedi – but most people did not, Yoda still believes he has it in his heart to turn to the Dark Side."

Mara sat back with arms crossed, grumbling. "I should sooner believe Master Yoda would turn. Or stop being condescending."

"Mara."

She bowed her head. "I'm sorry, Master."

He ignored the apology and continued. "The reason it was proclaimed that Luke was a Lord of the Sith is that the population couldn't understand how he _wasn't_. They thought it was like a hereditary trait, that it was a requirement for being the Emperor. It became pointless to try and explain otherwise."

"But he can't even use the Force."

Obi-Wan looked at her, surprised. "You figured that out?"

She hesitated. "…He told me," she replied. "How could anyone think him a Sith Lord if he cannot even use the Force?" She thought of a better question. "_Why_ can't he use the Force? I felt it, it is so strong, it cries out to be used!"

"Yes, well…"

"It is true that he cannot use the Force? It is really the truth?"

Obi-Wan did not say anything for a moment and instead asked her, "Do you believe him?"

"I asked you first."

"I don't care, my question is more interesting."

Mara hesitated, conflicted; she did believe Luke, she knew that she did. But to say so in front of her master seemed to imply something…in-described. It seemed to indicate that she were more aligned with Coruscanti politics than she wanted to admit to.

It seemed to indicate she were more aligned with the Emperor and his politics and everything else about him than she wanted to admit to.

"I am still trying to figure that out," she lied, and was rather sure Kenobi knew she lied.

Whether he did or not, he did not react beyond a smile and finally – after a very long moment – whispered, "Yes, it's true."

Mara felt even more stunned than before. "But…_why_?"

Kenobi gave a large sigh and stood, pacing a little to help him think. "Mara," he tried. "…Well, I wish I could tell you. We all tried to figure that out; it seemed inconceivable that the son of Anakin Skywalker should be unable to use the Force when every prophecy imaginable seemed to indicate otherwise. I wish I could explain it, we all tried to, we all tried different ways to teach him to tap into his power. We just…never could."

"That's it?" she demanded. "You have no other explanation than that?"

"No," he replied. "No, we think it was a…genetic anomaly. That he was a, 'late starter,' if you will."

"That phrase sounds humiliating."

"Well, I don't know how else to put it." He held his chin for a moment, index finger resting on his lower lip as he thought. "The best we could theorize was that there was just some inexplicable genetic defect that ruined Luke's ability to use the Force. Perhaps, had we kept him or his father had waited to train him – perhaps someday he could have used it. But I think it unlikely."

Mara twiddled her thumbs on her lap for a moment, pondering, before looking up at her master again. "Were you disappointed?"

"Hm?" He awoke from his state of deep thought and looked at her as though he'd forgotten she was there. He blinked, though, and smiled at her. "Disappointed? Oh, well…very briefly, at first, yes. Master Yoda and Bail I know were. But…well, it seemed enough that he would live to grow up free, that perhaps we had been wrong and he could take on his father without the Force. But of course, we never got to find out about that."

Mara considered what Luke had said about the Force, about his determination to prove his worth outside of its influence. It seemed now – and strangely so – that that was more noble a course than even being a Jedi, and that had he grown up under the tutelage of the Confederacy and her Jedi disciples, he could have taken on his father without its divine assistance the same way he ran the Empire – by his own goodness and strength.

_How terribly poetic. I must be exhausted to think such a thing_.

Obi-Wan seemed to agree with this idea, for he looked at her and said, "It's late. You must be tired." Mara would have protested, but yawned instead. "Go to bed. We can of course discuss all these things another time now that you're finally home." She stood to go and Obi-Wan stopped her, leaned towards her as though he were about to do something fatherly like kiss her on the forehead – but he stopped himself and leaned back again. "Rest well. May the Force be with you."

………………………………………………………………………………………

She saw Leia the next day.

"I have a secret for you," she whispered, a slight giggle in her voice. "And you have to promise not to tell."

"I promise," Mara said lightly, transported back to earlier times when she was briefly allowed as a Padawan to indulge in girlish sleepovers and share secrets with Princess Leia. Those moments had grown fewer as she aged, Master Yoda's mistrust of Organa meddling.

But Master Yoda was not ruling her today, and she sat in the corner of the patio garden of the Organa estate, tucked onto a large pillow with cups of sweet tea and plates of native fruits. Leia was the happiest Mara could remember her ever being, looking young and carefree in her world.

"You have to especially promise this time," young Organa repeated.

"What could be so serious?" Mara demanded, growing irritated by such foolishness, and she felt stodgy and prematurely old like Yoda.

Leia hesitated a second, as though pondering how to say it, before simply spitting it out. "I got married," she said, and tea dribbled from Mara's lips as the shock made her temporarily forget how to swallow.

"Leia!" she cried and was instantly shushed as the princess giggled some more. "You got married?" she hissed. Leia nodded strongly, a foreign but happy blush rising to her pale cheeks. In a whisper she asked, "To Captain Solo?"

"Of course to Captain Solo! Who else?"

"Well, I…" Mara felt her mind being pulled back to the dark room of the Imperial Palace just after Skywalker was taken, when Falleen Prince Xizor waxed romantic on his intended proposal…A sickened shudder ran through her and she shoved the memory away, willing herself to soak in the sunlight of the garden. To accomplish this, she put a piece of dried fruit in her mouth and chewed purposefully.

"I'm sorry you couldn't be there," Leia apologized, pulling a ring box from a pocket and showing off her new prize. It looked expensive and when Mara glanced up at her childhood companion, she seemed so proud of it. "It all happened very quickly."

"What do you mean?"

"Everything was so crazy, it was during the coup, and I was so upset and – well, and Han…he just dropped down on one knee, and…"

"He did." Mara had a hard time picturing the scruff captain expressing his passion in his throws of love.

"He was so sweet," Leia sighed, brown eyes glittering. She was somewhere else, Mara could see, and for a moment she resented it. For a moment, she was angry that something had now permanently stepped between them and brought that stage of their youth to an end. Her marriage had been unable to do that.

The feeling was brief and she shook her head, once more interested in Leia's story as the senator continued. "He said, 'Leia, will you marry me?' And I couldn't think of what to say!"

"Other than yes?"

"I didn't want to say yes, you see, at least not right away, he's too used to getting his own way…but I couldn't say anything else."

Mara took a long sip of her tea and examined her old friend over the rim of the cup. "Well, you love him."

"I do." She laughed again, her own drink and food still untouched. "Oh, I shouldn't, but Force how I do."

"And you got married," Mara said, setting the cup aside and fixing Leia with a really meaningful look from her green eyes. They matched the foliage that reached up around them. "Just like that?"

Leia thought about it for a moment, recalling her moment of supreme happiness. "Yeah," she nodded, smile still painfully wide. "Just like that."

It was at that moment that Mara felt a kick in her stomach. She did not know why at the time, thought perhaps it was the sweetness of the tea and did not touch any more of it for the rest of the occasion. At the moment, she gave her sudden pain no more thought than that and listened to Leia as she explained how they planned to let her parents know since secret marriages were never a good idea (her odious half-brother being prime enough example of the results, she was sure Mara would agree); but Jade found herself only half listening. She tried, she tried hard to be as attentive as possible, thinking she was being unkindly jealous, but she never did get quite into the story or became entirely happy.

After Leia she spent the rest of the day in meditation, but the sickened feeling still remained after the pain, and she could not reason out why. She ate very little for dinner in the halls of the Temple and spent yet more time meditating to try and work it out. She thought perhaps she was getting ill or not adjusting to the time properly, and went to bed early, tucking herself carefully in after making sure everything was in order and beyond reproach.

Yet it took ages to fall asleep, and the sickened feeling grew stronger and stronger. When she did finally sleep, she dreamt and it was not restful, envisioning vague shapes and warring shades of color. She was finally jolted out of sleep and out of bed as though an invisible hand had yanked her from her blankets. She stood by the bed not knowing what to do.

It was that kick again, landing strongly in her stomach and chest. She really did feel sick now, but only because she was too aware that she was in perfect health. Her mind knew, the Force told her what the matter was.

"Just like that." She had never done anything, "just like that," in the whole of her life, nothing unscripted or unplanned. In the Temple, her days followed a routine she used to think was purposeful and comforting and she now realized was imprisoning and enabling. On Coruscant, she structured her time around work, around things she knew – but only in order to ignore the deep and empty pit she suddenly realized was within her. As a child she had become a Jedi only because she had never thought there was anything else in life.

There had been, there had been so much more all along and she was only now aware of it. She was upset, angry, cheated out of something – but above all she was sick, and she knew why, she knew why at last. She was sick with loneliness, sick with a need for companionship and understanding; something deeper than the Organas or her Master, something old as time itself, present in her before she was born and reaching all the way back to the beginning of her ancestors.

With great revulsion, she threw her hands out in front of her, trying to throw away an idea. She did not _want _to make a proper Jedi! It was a fate she needed to escape as quickly as possible! She had worked so long at it because she thought she did want it, but in reality it was from ignorance at there being anything else. The room around her spun and made her illness worse and she ran. Out, to the window, to the door to the balcony that looked out on the calm of the courtyard below, its small fountain gurgling away the same it did every moment in its structured life.

_Don't let me be that! _She cried to the Force, seeing the fountain going on as it had her entire life on Alderaan. _Don't let me be an ornament here!_

She shuddered and shook, still ill, arms clasping herself. Her sleeping garments were light, but she knew she was not shivering from the cool night air. She needed something – indistinct and vague, something she could not consciously know because she'd never had it, but the rest of her knew and her being seemed to vibrate in the Force. She tried to stop it, for she could feel other Jedi waking to her disturbed signature, but it continued on without her and she covered her mouth as though to end a scream that wasn't coming.

She needed to find a way to make the intense pain cease and she looked up, into the starry, balmy night. She felt herself calm and relax, and the other Jedi were going back to sleep, hopefully to ask no questions. She noticed that one could actually see the stars here, unlike on Coruscant.

Coruscant. Her chest _ached_, the way it must feel to have a lightsaber slowly pulled down from the sternum. Quickly, to ease the pain, she counted out the stars, thought hard on the map of the heavens – and picked out the sparkling diamond, center of the galaxy.

Her scarred hands gripped the banister and her will exerted itself. _Call me back_, she begged the sparkling speck. _Call me back. Let it be early – a month, a week, tomorrow, I don't care, but take me to you._

She waited, breathing slowing. In the night air, there was no response, but the Force oh so thinly and gently wrapped around her and whispered to her to return to her bed; she could dream of what she desired there, and somehow the time would pass. And somehow she would find peace of mind there.


End file.
